But Not Us
by totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: While on his mission to return the Infinity Stones to their rightful places in time, Steve Rogers finds that time isn't the only thing that can be fixed. Sometimes, hearts can too. Romanogers Endgame fix it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** This is a post Endgame Romanogers story. So HEAVY, HEAVY SPOILERS for Endgame. Seriously, if you haven't seen the movie, click back. Do not read. If you're like me and weren't quite satisfied with the endings for Natasha and Steve, then I hope you enjoy this fix. This is the first of what I think will be two parts; this part is heavy on the HOW Nat comes back. It's almost exclusively from Steve's POV, since his state of mind is crucial. There is a pretty significant Steggy scene; I just felt that it needed to be in there in order to get to where I wanted to go. I also may have played a bit fast and loose with the so called rules of time travel, but it's my story and I do what I want. LOL I'm hoping to get the second part out within a week or so; that one will be Romanogers heavy. I just needed get the plotty things out of the way. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Just funning with them, I promise!

**Chapter 1**

Steve stepped onto the platform, surveying the world one last time. Bruce wasn't even paying attention to him, focused instead on the instruments that would send Steve back into the past. Sam still looked a bit worried but hopeful, almost as if he knew what Steve was thinking. Steve was pretty sure Bucky knew exactly what was going on in his head, despite never saying a word. He ignored the twinge of guilt that twisted in his gut; these were his friends. His family, in so many ways.

_Family._

Unbidden, an image of Natasha fluttered before his eyes. The wave of grief that flooded him nearly broke his resolve; he missed her _so_ much. But Nat would want him to be happy. Wasn't she always telling him to get a life? _You first._

Well, he was planning on doing just that.

The quantum suit wrapped around him; he hefted Mjolnir. The hammer felt featherlight; it was still slightly mindboggling that it responded to him. During the battle with Thanos, he hadn't thought much about it, but now…it was something. He nodded once to Sam, then suddenly he was gone, sucked into the quantum realm. He planned this trip carefully, knowing he needed to get each stone back to its proper place with as little traveling as possible. He had plenty of Pym particles, but he didn't want to waste them. What if something went wrong, like it had in New York? No, better to be safe than sorry.

**Asgard 2013**

He landed rather abruptly, his boots jolting on the ground. Steve quickly pressed the button that retracted the suit, revealing his Captain America outfit. After his previous trips, the disorientation was minimal, but he still looked around in wonder for a moment. He'd heard Thor speak about his home many times, but even that had not done Asgard justice. Everything glittered; it was light and airy and cavernous. He could see why his friend missed this place so much. It was a lovely home.

But Steve had a job to do. He crept through the halls, seeking Jane Foster. Rocket had given him the precise location; Steve took a right, then a left, then another left. The door to her room was ajar; he prayed she was still asleep. Steve reached into his pocket; it took him moment to find the right tool. He pressed one of the enlargement disks to it and it swelled to its full size. Only when that was finished did he extract the Infinity Stone from the specially made briefcase. As silently as he could, Steve crept into the room. A breeze made the curtains flutter and Jane Foster laid on the chaise, fast asleep. Thank God. Steve placed the Reality Stone into the extractor and pressed the button to reverse the flow. The stone seemed to melt into its natural state, a red angry liquid. It felt wrong to be cursing Jane with the Aether once again, but Thor had assured him that Jane would be safe. She could handle it.

It was done in a matter of seconds.

Task complete, Steve tip toed out of the room. He still had one more thing to do in this time.

"You're a friend of my son."

Steve froze. He didn't know the voice, but he knew who it belonged to. Frigga, Thor's mother. Rocket had confided what happened during the Time Heist; Steve knew how much it meant to Thor to have another moment with his mother. Steve himself had lost both his parents when he was young; he still missed them, all these years later. So much loss. Slowly, he turned. She was just as beautiful as her son described. "Your Majesty."

Frigga smiled. "You're not going to ask how I knew?"

Steve shook his head. "Thor always said you were the cleverest person in Asgard."

"How is he?"

"Good. I think he's going to be okay." He still felt guilty about not checking on his friend more over the last five years. Thor had been in so much pain; they just…left him to his own devices. He should have done more. Now, Thor had gone off with Rocket and Quill and the other Guardians. Steve hoped he found what he was looking for.

Frigga seemed to sense his inner turmoil. She stepped forward and placed her hand on Steve's arm. "You can not save everyone. No one can."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

Frigga glanced down at his hand, the one that still carried Mjolnir. "My son must trust you very much."

Steve actually found himself flushing a bit. "It's been an honor, one I didn't ask for."

Frigga tilted her head, her eyes gentle and motherly. "You never do. But it always seems to find you…"

"Steve, Steve Rogers."

"Steve." If she thought his name strange, she gave no sign. Steve liked her; he could see so much of her in Thor. "I wish you luck on your quest. There is so much more for you to do."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"A friend of my son may call me Frigga."

"Frigga." He was surprised when she hugged him; Steve blinked back tears as he hugged her back. A simple thing, but it meant so much. He'd been so lonely, for so long.

"Thor's rooms are that way," she whispered as she released him. Steve took the hint, slipping through the corridors. Best to get this done quickly, before the Thor of this time actually _needed_ his beloved hammer.

"Thanks, buddy," Steve murmured, as he laid the weapon to rest. "I'll miss you." Before he could change his mind, he pressed the button to summon his quantum suit and took the next leap.

**New York 2012**

He returned the Mind Stone first. Since Steve was the one who stole it, he knew exactly where to return it. This time when he stopped the elevator, he slipped inside, fingers twitching behind his shield. The silence was eerie but no one spoke. As the elevator resumed its descent, Steve flicked a small electromagnetic pulse at the control box, bringing the elevator to a stop. Another one dropped to the floor shocked his Hydra companions into unconsciousness before they could react, giving him the time swap out the stone. One engorging disc later, the scepter was returned to its case and he was gone, slipping out of the emergency exit. Somewhere downstairs Loki was getting away with the Tesseract, but he didn't see how he could fix that. He had his own Tesseract to deal with.

_Not yet._

First, he had to make a visit to Bleecker Street.

Steve found the entity Banner referred to as the Ancient One waiting patiently on the roof. "You're not Bruce Banner."

Steve stepped forward. "No, but I'm a friend. I've been tasked with keeping his promise."

"I know exactly who you are, Steve Rogers."

Steve blinked. Bruce hadn't mentioned how _creepy_ the Ancient One could be. "Oh. Right."

"You have the Time Stone?"

Steve opened the briefcase, extracting the shiny green stone. "I have to admit, I thought this would be harder."

The Ancient One did some mystical magic stuff—Steve still wasn't sure how that worked—to open the Eye. The Time Stone left his grip, floating back into its original place. Once the Eye was closed again, the Ancient One smiled. "Thank you, Captain. You've saved many lives, and not just in your reality."

"Somehow, it doesn't feel like enough." There were still losses. Tony, Loki, Heimdall, Vision, _Nat._ _See you in a minute,_ she'd said. He could still see her little smirk before they all zipped through time. His heart twisted; why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be _anyone?_ Why was the price so damn high?

"I would think that you—more than most—would understand the value of sacrifice."

"Just because I understand it doesn't make it fair."

The Ancient One softened. "No, not much in life is fair. In five years, Stephen Strange will suffer a horrible loss. And yet, he comes out of it better than he was before. Perhaps not as he imagines, yet as he needs. So, it will be for you, Steve Rogers."

"How do you know what I need?"

"Not what. _Who._ You still have much to do, Captain."

Before he could reply, she turned and opened a portal, disappearing before his eyes. Okay, so that was weird. With his job in New York done, it was time to move on. Steve punched in his next set of coordinates and took a deep breath. He'd been dreading this jump since Bruce explained they needed to return all the stones. He wasn't ready. Then again, he wasn't sure he would ever be ready. Best just to get it over with then.

**Camp Lehigh 1970**

Tony located the Tesseract deep in the bowels of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; Peggy's office was on a completely different level. He just had to get in, get out, and move on. No wandering, no detours. This has been easier when he _didn't_ know Peggy was on the premises. He just had to remember that this Peggy wasn't his Peggy. He'd been seeing Peggy—his Peggy—soon enough.

Steve took a bit more care with his disguise this time; if anyone recognized him, he didn't have Loki's scepter to make them forget. Rather than a some non-descript soldier, he wore the uniform of an MP. If his luck held, no one would look twice at him. He knew the layout of the base perfectly, not just because he trained here, but because he and Nat nearly died here. Steve clenched his jaw, frustrated. Why did he have to think of her _now?_ This place carried enough ghosts; he didn't want Nat to be here too. She deserved better.

Steve managed to find the storage room easily enough. Recreating the Tesseract was harder; Bruce gave him a device that should do it. He extracted it from his belt—thank god for Scott and his Ant Man gear—and set to work.

For a man out of time, Steve was very adaptable. He took to modern technology fairly easily; if someone explained how something worked, he could figure it out. A consequence of the serum? Who knew. He'd never gotten the chance to ask Dr. Erskine. Another person lost. From the very beginning, he just seemed to lose. Perhaps not battles, but people. Would it ever end? Was this his destiny? Just _once_, could he get something back?

_You got Bucky back,_ he scolded himself as the instrument did its work. Steve glanced around occasionally to make sure he was still alone. It was late in the afternoon; most people were heading home for the day. If he was lucky, he could get out before anyone noticed he was there. Yes, he'd gotten Bucky back, but at what cost? He'd hardly seen his friend since Steve discovered he was alive. Between the brainwashed Winter Soldier and recovering in Wakanda, Bucky had been through more than anyone should have to take. And now Steve was abandoning him, just when they could have truly reconnected. He was losing Bucky all over again.

Steve stood abruptly, clenching his fist. Why was this so difficult? Didn't he deserve to be happy? To have a life? Steve didn't want to admit it, but there was a part of him that was jealous of Tony. He got to marry the love of his life. He got to have a family. It was the life Steve always dreamed about, a life with Peggy. When he went into the ice, it was stolen from him. This was his chance to get it back.

Voices got his attention. Steve shrank back into the shadows, throwing a cloth over the now glowing Tesseract. His breaths were shallow, his heart racing. The voices grew closer; Steve retreated deeper into the darkness.

"Has anyone seen Howard? Honestly, why does he think his money can keep him on this project?"

Steve closed his eyes. Peggy. Of course, it was Peggy. The universe hated him _that_ much. Still, if he stayed back, he needn't see her. He listened hard, waiting for the telltale clack of her heels to recede. Confident he was now alone, Steve yanked the Tesseract free of the device and hurried to shove it back into the case Tony had stolen it from. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged the weight of the case and it _slammed_ shut. The sound echoed down the corridor and Steve winced.

"Damn it," he muttered. But his job was done. He could go.

"Howard? Is that you?"

Steve ducked back into his dark corner, but he tripped on a stool. He stopped himself from crying out, but just barely. All he had to do was punch in the coordinates, then he would be gone. _Click, clack, click, clack._ "Come on," he muttered, fumbling with his time travel GPS. "Come on." But his mind was blank. Being this close to Peggy again was messing with his head; he couldn't think. _The stones,_ he thought frantically. _You need to return the stones._

"I know you're out there," came Peggy's crisp English accent. God, he'd missed the sound of her voice. "Show yourself."

Steve remained motionless, knowing he had to go, but not able to. She was _so_ close. _She has a family, a husband here,_ he reminded himself. _You don't belong._ No, he may not belong here, but if he went back far enough…

Something metallic pressed into his back. "Hands. Slowly."

Steve closed his eyes and raised his hands. He swallowed, his brain frantically trying to find a way out.

"Turn around." He did as he was bid. Could he knock her out? He _could_, but Steve knew he wouldn't. He couldn't. It was _Peggy._ Steve tried to keep his face averted, but her surprised gasped broke his heart. _"Steve?"_

Reluctantly, he raised his eyes to hers. "Hey, Peggy."

Her eyes welled with tears; her chin wobbled. Slowly, her hand cupped his smooth cheek. He could feel her trembling. "How?"

"It's a long story."

She traced the line of his jaw; how many times had he dreamed about her touching him like this? The last woman to touch him was Nat, tending wounds sustained against an enemy he couldn't even remember. She looked after him, even when he didn't want her too. Peggy offered him a small smile. "I've got all the time in the world."

Steve sighed; she had no idea how loaded that phrase was for him. "I'm on a mission, Peg. I don't exactly have time to chat." Besides, if everything went to plan, he'd be seeing her soon enough. Not this Peggy, but his Peggy.

Peggy narrowed her eyes at him. She looked him up and down; he struggled not to fidget. She always had a way of seeing through him. "You're not my Steve, are you?"

Why did she have to be so smart? He should just punch in the coordinates for 2014 Morag and just go, but the weight of all he'd been through pressed on his chest. And here was Peggy, looking both relieved and incredulous to see him. "Not exactly." _The hell with it._ "I'm from the future."

Her brows knitted. "The future?"

"Like I said, it's a long story."

"One it looks like you need to tell."

"Peggy…" He thought about Sam and Bucky and Bruce, waiting for him back in 2023. _How long will it take? As long as he needs._ Granted, Steve wasn't going back to his friends, but it wasn't wise to linger. Was it?

"Steve, talk to me. I think I deserve an explanation, especially since you're on _my _base."

That made the corner of his lips twitch. So fiery, his Peggy. "Alright, but I don't have a lot of time."

Peggy led them into an abandoned office nearby, shutting the door behind them. "Now, Captain, shall we?"

Despite the situation, Steve couldn't help but smile. He'd _missed_ her so damn much. Her look was very much of the era, but he could still see the woman he knew behind her eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

"How about at the beginning?"

"You know that part."

Peggy actually rolled her eyes at him. It reminded him forcefully of Natasha. She didn't think his form of humor very funny either. Still, he enjoyed needling her. Enjoyed, past tense. Thanks to Thanos, he would never needle Natasha Romanoff again.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

Steve tried to pull himself together. He didn't break down like this. "What's not wrong," he muttered, roughly running his fingers through his hair. He wasn't a complainer, but God, he was so _tired._ Tired and lonely. One of his best friends was dead. So was Nat. So much sacrifice. When did it end?

"Talk to me. Please."

He began, slowly, haltingly. He told her everything (well, almost, he wasn't that crazy), from going down in the ice, to waking up in another century, to fighting aliens. He spoke of his new friends, his new _family,_ the Avengers. Peggy's eyes shined with tears as he spoke of Tony, their friend Howard's pride and joy. Thor, the god from another world. Bruce, the scientist and the monster. Clint, Rhodey, Sam, Wanda, T'Challa, the kid from Queens, Peter. When he got to Bucky, his throat closed up, the emotion of finding his greatest friend after all those years choking him. Peggy slipped her hand into his, silently offering him what comfort she could. Bucky inevitably led to Natasha; she'd been his rock through that particular hell. At the last moment, he bit back any mention of HYDRA; this Peggy couldn't know about that. Hell, there were probably HYDRA agents on this base, but he couldn't do anything about that.

"We were on the run for a while, me and Sam and Nat. Doing what we could."

"Yes, I'm sure you did. You wouldn't be the Steve Rogers I know if you didn't."

He squeezed her hand. "It was hard. I even grew a beard."

Peggy gave him a wry grin. "I would have loved to see that."

"Nat said it made me look like a nomad."

Peggy's eyes flickered over his face. "It sounds like you were very close."

Steve glanced away. Thinking about Natasha hurt somewhere deep inside; it was still so hard to believe she was _gone._ It would never forget the look on her face when she found he and Sam, after he broke everyone out of the Raft. How she'd found him, he never asked. He didn't need to. He'd gotten used to her doing the impossible. Natasha was always ready with a quip or a wry grin, cutting through the tension and boredom of their self-imposed exile from the world. He wasn't sure he would have made it without her. Sam was an amazing friend, but Nat was special. What had she said? Being an Avenger made her better. Being around her made life worth living; she was a beacon through the bad times, always by his side.

He missed her so much.

Unbidden, a tear slid down his cheek. "Yeah, Nat was…well, she was Nat. She was a spy, like you." He took a deep breath. "But she was more than that. She was loyal and kind, but _funny, _you know? And she never took anyone's shit." He could almost see her, eyebrow arched, hands on her hips, silently ready to take on whatever came their way.

"What happened to her?"

"She…she died. God, Peggy, she _died._ She gave her life for one of these damn stones," he gestured toward the briefcase, "all to bring her family back. We were her family and we just _let_ her…" He couldn't even imagine what it had been like for Clint, watching Nat sacrifice herself. It was too horrible and so unfair…the dam of grief broke and Steve buried his face in his hands. Nat. Tony. Thor. Clint. Bruce. They'd all lost so much.

Peggy stood and wrapped her arms around Steve, holding him as let it out. She'd never seen him break down like this, not even when Bucky died. Wait, Bucky was still alive in his world, right? Much of the details were spinning in her head; it was a lot to take in. She could hardly believe that Steve was here at all; she was convinced she would wake up soon. This wasn't a Steve she knew; this one was perilously close to breaking. Steve Rogers was the strongest person she knew; it had nothing to do with the serum. Dr. Erskine had chosen Steve for a reason; his strength was one of the things she loved about him.

"I didn't know your Natasha, but I don't think she would say you _let_ her do anything," Peggy murmured softly. "She did what she had to for the people she loved."

Steve sucked in a deep breath; his chest hurt. "She was supposed to have a life. We promised each other we'd get a life."

Peggy settled back on the stiff metal chair. Her eyes were filled with sympathy and sadness. "You cared for her very much."

Steve looked away, embarrassed by his outburst. He roughly scrubbed under his eyes with his sleeve. "Of course, I did. She was my friend."

Peggy smiled, but it was a sad and resigned sort of smile. "Steve, she was more than your friend. Or your teammate. I saw you lose your oldest and best friend in the world and this was not how you reacted."

"A lot has changed since then, Peggy."

"Yes, it has. I'm so happy for you, Steve."

His brow knitted in confusion. "How in the hell was any of that happy? I've done nothing but fight since I got out of the ice. It's exhausting. I'm so damn tired, Peg. All I've ever wanted was a family, someone to love, a home. I've never had that, not since…" The _you_ went unsaid. All of that had ever been a dream with Peggy, their time cut cruelly short. But it didn't have to be a dream anymore. He could leave here, finish righting the timelines, then go to her. He could have the life he'd always wanted.

Then why the hell did he feel so _guilty?_

"You miss her. You wanted those things…with her. Natasha. Only—stubborn arse that you are—you wouldn't allow yourself to want it. It's written all over your face. You love her."

Love, present tense. "That's ridiculous. We were friends, Peggy. That's all." He stood, marching away from her.

"You're a terrible liar."

Steve growled under his breath; Nat used to say that to him too. She saw right through him, just like Peggy. Growing up, Steve had always been shy and awkward around girls, mostly out of self-defense. Like he'd told Peggy long ago, girls didn't want to dance with the guy they might step on. But he'd never been shy or awkward with Natasha. At first, it was because she was his teammate, his co-worker at S.H.I.E.L.D. Gradually, he got to know _her,_ and he liked what he saw. He knew Nat had done some terrible things, but he didn't see any of that when he looked at her. All he saw was a woman doing her best, making the people around her better. A leader. A friend. The person he wanted at his side in a tough spot and the person he wanted to joke with about it after. And she was beautiful, inside and out.

Abruptly, Steve punched the nearest flat surface, leaving a deep dent in the wall. Suddenly, everything made sense. The grief, the confusion, the loneliness. For years, Nat had been there; she'd seen him at his best and his worst. God, he _loved_ her. That's why it hurt so much. He didn't just lose a friend. He lost the woman he loved. Again.

"Steve, it's alright. You moved on. There's no shame in that."

"I love you, too, Peggy." If she was going to force him to see something he'd buried for so long, then he needed her to know that. No matter what, he'd never stopped loving the woman in front of him. His first love.

She stepped closer, gently curling her fingers around his, a tender smile on her lips. "I've waited a long time to hear you say that."

"Sorry, I took so long."

"Oh Steve." She squeezed his hand. "I will love you all my life, my dearest. But you're not mine any longer. You belong to someone else."

"She's gone, Peggy. Nothing can bring her back. But…"

Peggy's head tilted. "But what?"

He felt a little sick even saying it, but Nat would want him to be happy, right? "It might not be too late for us. This time travel thing…"

Peggy stepped back. "I have a husband, Steve. Children."

"I know. I would never ask that of you. I can't stay here anyway. It would create another branch reality, something I'm trying to fix." No, he needed to go even further back, before HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D., before all of it. Yes, it would create another reality, but one that would cause the least damage. Perhaps someday he'd even find his way back to his friends. For right now, he _needed_ this. He'd never taken anything for himself; just this once, he wanted to be happy.

"What do you mean?"

As succinctly as he could, he described his mission with the Infinity Stones. "I have two left after this, Peg. The Power Stone and the Soul Stone. Once I return them, I can find you. Not this you, but…I could go back. To after the war, after I…disappeared. We could be happy."

Peggy looked skeptical. "But what would that do? Create one of these branch realities? Or ruin the future?"

"I'm not sure," Steve admitted. He thought he understood how this worked, but he wasn't Tony or Bruce. He didn't know for _sure_. "But isn't it worth it? Aren't we worth it?"

"And what about your friends? Bucky?"

"The Earth has plenty of defenders; they don't need me. As for Bucky, he would understand." Steve was sure Bucky would understand; they were both men out of time.

Peggy crossed her arms over her chest. "And what about Natasha?"

"What about her? She's dead, Peggy. I can't bring her back. Bruce tried, okay? He had the gauntlet, the most powerful weapon in the universe, and he couldn't bring her back! What the hell could I _possibly_ do? I can't fix this! I can't tell her…she's gone, and it _hurts."_

"And you think running is the answer? You were right, before. You're _not_ my Steve. My Steve would _never_ give up on someone he loved. Not ever."

Steve ground his teeth; she just didn't understand. He reached for the briefcase and shook it. "It's in here. The Soul Stone. Nat gave her _life_ so that we could save everyone. It's an exchange, Peg. You give up something you love. Thanos sacrificed his own daughter for it. Clint and Nat went to Vormir and only Clint came back. So, tell me, how would you suggest I fix _that?"_ He was angry now, downright pissed. Everything he felt for Natasha Romanoff came bubbling up to the surface, feelings that laid buried for too long. He'd wasted so much _time._ It was the story of his life. First with Peggy, then Sharon, now Nat. Nat hurt so much more because she didn't know. She didn't know how Steve felt, because he hadn't recognized it himself. If he didn't allow himself to love someone, then he couldn't lose them.

Or so he'd deluded himself.

If only Tony could see him now.

Peggy lifted her chin, her hands on her hips. It hurt seeing Steve in so much pain; she had to do something. Part of her desperately wanted what he offered—she'd missed him so much—but that would be selfish. How could she take him from everyone he cared about? How could either of them live in a world where terrible things happened and _not_ do something? It was why she'd volunteered during the war. Steve was the same. Neither one could look the other way, not if they could help. It was simply who they were. There was something about the future he was keeping from her and she was grateful. Just having this moment with him was a gift. She didn't need anything more.

"Eyes up, soldier."

Steve blinked; Peggy hadn't spoken to him like that in a long time. It was like no time had passed, Peggy in her SSR uniform, ordering men about with crisp efficiency. "Peggy…"

She wouldn't back down. "I said, _eyes up."_ Once he obeyed her, she fixed him with a hard stare. "Now you listen to me. I don't pretend to understand everything you've told me about space and magic. But it seems logical to me that an exchange goes both ways. If you return the Stone, you should get something in return."

Steve shook his head. "I don't think it's that easy. Clint said it was everlasting."

"But you don't _know._ Steve, I think you should try. For Natasha. For your friends. And for yourself. You deserve to be happy."

A single tear slipped down his cheek. "I never told her, Peggy. We've always been friends. Ever since Thanos…it's been really hard. But I should have told her. Hell, I didn't even realize it, but I still should have told her." Even as a friend. He should have let her know every day, how much he cared. But he'd been lost too. He distinctly recalled the last private conversation they had together; he played her words over and over in his head. They could have had a life. Together. Why had he been so blind?

"It's not too late."

"How do you know?"

"Because I get to have this moment with you. Steve, I never thought I would see you again. It was so bloody hard at first." She took a deep breath, emotions she'd suppressed bubbling up to the surface. She loved her husband and her children; she loved her life. But part of her would always love Steve Rogers. "I didn't want to believe you were gone. Eventually, I had to let you go. It was the hardest thing I've ever done."

"I'm so sorry, Peggy."

"Don't you dare apologize!" she snapped. "Don't you _dare!"_ Her life would have been so much worse without Steve in it. His belief in her helped her believe in herself. His memory got her through when nothing else could. When she faced a hard choice, she asked herself, "what would Steve do?" He would always do what was right, no matter the cost. She'd helped build S.H.I.E.L.D. in that image. This man helped her find her purpose; she loved him for it. Now, she had to help him find his again. "I don't regret a single minute; do you hear me? Not one! But we have to move on, Steve. Our time passed. I can't let you do this."

"Peggy, don't you understand? This is our second chance! We could have the life we always dreamed of!"

"But at what cost?" she countered hotly. "Tell me, would you be truly happy standing on the sidelines? Watching as bad things happened? Things you knew you could stop? You've been given an extraordinary gift, Steve. I won't have you waste it."

"It's not your choice!"

"Oh, but it is." Tears shined in her eyes, but she knew she was making the right choice. It felt like letting him go all over again, but there were others who needed him. And he needed his Natasha. She'd given him something, something to believe in. Peggy was so grateful to this woman, despite never meeting her. Steve deserved to be loved for everything that he was. "This is not who you are, Steve. The man I love would not turn his back. He would never give up. She needs you. Your world needs you. I would never forgive myself if I kept you from your family."

"Peggy, I…" He trailed off, because deep down, he knew she was right. Peggy was always right. She knew him better than he knew himself. "I'm sorry," he said, softly. "I shouldn't have burdened you with this."

Her face softened. "Knowing that you will have a life with people who love you as I do is more than enough."

He thought about Sam and Bucky, Wanda and T'Challa, Bruce and Clint. Little Morgan. God, how would that little girl know how amazing her father was? The loss of Tony still made his chest ache. It wasn't fair. What kind of friend would he be if he turned his back on people who needed him? "What if I can't get her back?"

"You will."

"Because I'm Captain America?"

"No. Because you are Steve Rogers, the best man I've ever known. If anyone can do it, you can."

Slowly, he nodded. He'd lingered long enough. It was time to get going. "Peggy, I…"

"I know." She stepped forward and gently lowered his head to kiss his brow. "Go get 'em."

Once again, his throat closed; how could he say goodbye to Peggy? Tears pricked his eyes, but he blinked them away. She was looking at him with such pride; he couldn't let her down. He couldn't let Nat down. Steve nodded once, then punched in the coordinates to 2014 Morag. The quantum suit came around him and then he was gone, sucked into the bright light of the quantum realm.

**Morag 2014**

Steve grunted a little as he landed hard. The ground under him was rockier than he expected. Nebula and Rhodey said they'd knocked Quill out before going to steal the Power Stone; if he was lucky Quill would still be unconscious. Then he could return the Stone before Quill even knew anything was amiss. Steve switched on his tracker, locating the temple easily enough. He had to keep moving; it was easier than thinking about what lay behind and ahead. Seeing Peggy again, talking to her, felt like a blessing and curse. It was all he'd wanted since he woke up in the twenty first century, all he'd allow himself to want. But she'd forced him to face the truth. He'd moved on, without meaning to. Steve had clung to Peggy's memory like a shield, using it to keep his heart safe. Or so he'd believed. In truth, he'd given it to another. He wanted so badly to believe he could bring Natasha back.

No, he _would_ bring her back. Failure was not an option.

Returning the Power Stone to its rightful place was the easiest trip so far. Using some alien tech that Carol had given him, he placed the sphere back into the energy shield. Painfully simple for something so powerful. Job done, Steve reached for his GPS. And hesitated. _She needs you._ Could he bring Natasha back? He needed to believe it, or he wasn't sure what he would do. There was so much left unsaid between them; he needed another chance to make it right. He needed her to know how he felt. He couldn't lose the woman he loved. Not again.

"_Get it together, Rogers,"_ he muttered to himself. He could almost hear Nat scolding him for talking to himself like some old fart. Yes, he had no doubt she would be rather amused by all this.

It was time. Steve punched in the coordinates to Vormir, his other hand gripping the briefcase tightly as he was sucked once more into the quantum realm.

**Vormir 2014**

It was dark. Steve pressed the button on his suit, retracting the it to reveal his Captain America suit. He could see the mountain Clint spoke of in the distance; Rocket's ship wasn't far away. There were two set of tracks; Steve followed them up the mountain. It was steep, but he hardly felt it. Did either Clint or Nat know what awaited them on this mountain? When he reached the top, he heard voices, angry desperate voices.

_Oh god._

The black clad sentinel stood at the edge of the cliff; Steve hung back. It took all his self-control to stay back. It was shredding his heart, but he couldn't stop what was about to happen. _It should have been me._ Clint and Nat fought over who would sacrifice themselves; Steve never expected this. He clenched his fist, the pain searing him as he listened to Nat's final moments.

"Damn you!"

"Let me go."

"No. Please don't."

"It's okay."

There was a scrabbling sound then Clint's anguished cry as Natasha fell. Steve closed his eyes; he couldn't see this. Clint sounded like a wounded animal, angry and shaken. A dull sob rent the air, then a bright light burned behind Steve's eyelids. He stumbled back from the rock, stunned.

"Steve, son of Sarah."

As if things couldn't get worse. Then Steve stopped. He knew that voice. Instantly, he was on his guard, kicking the briefcase behind him. "You."

The Red Skull floated nearby, looking much more incorporeal than he had the last time Steve saw him. Back in 1945, Schmidt had gotten sucked into a portal, out into space. How the hell had he wound up here?

"This is my punishment," Red Skull explained. "For seeking power."

"You let her die."

"I am a guide, nothing more. She made her choice."

Infuriated, Steve took a lunge at him, but there was nothing to lunge _at._ He landed on the ground with a painful thud, the breath momentarily knocked out of him. He scrambled up quickly, his grief and anger flooding him. He ran at Red Skull again, kicking and punching, but it was no use.

"You can not bring her back, Captain. No one can."

"Yes, I can!" He dived for the briefcase then ran headlong for the ledge. He skidded to a stop just in time and unsnapped the clasps on the case. He held the Soul Stone aloft, his gaze on Red Skull. "A soul for a soul. That's the deal. You're going to give her back to me."

"What is done can not be undone, Captain. You should know that better than anyone."

_Don't look down._ Would she still be down there? He couldn't look. He didn't want to know. "I got a second chance," he said. "And I'm going to make damn sure she gets one too. Now give her _back."_

The stone in his hand glowed, burning through his glove. Steve gasped, but he refused to let go. He wasn't giving the Stone back until he had Nat. "Uncomfortable, Captain?"

Steve grit his teeth; Red Skull's smirk was infuriating. "What is happening?"

"It's the Stone. As with everything, what you desire comes at a price."

"Does it want me instead?" A soul for a soul. If it would bring Natasha back, he would happily give his life. His only regret was that she would never know just how truly she was loved.

"No, I'm afraid the Stone has a much more difficult task for you, Steve, son of Sarah. If you truly wish to bring back the one you love, then you must prove yourself worthy. You must save a life."

Save a life. He did that all the time. He had a feeling this was a specific someone though. "Who?"

"Loki, son of Odin."

"Thor's brother?" How would saving Loki bring Nat back? _Space magic._ Thor had been so certain that Nat could be brought back; he'd been dealing with this kind of thing for centuries. Could it be done? According to Thor, Loki had been killed by Thanos when he decimated the Asgardian ship. He'd died a hero. How could he be saved?

Then it hit him. _Loki was still out there._

When Loki disappeared with the Tesseract in New York, he'd created an alternate universe. Could Steve save Loki _and _clip that branch? Just thinking about it made his head hurt. Where was Bruce when Steve needed him? The Stone pulsed in his hand; Steve chose to see this as a good sign. Save Loki, save Nat. He had time travel on his side. Time travel and a whole lot of determination.

"Hang on, Nat," he whispered, pocketing the Soul Stone. He wasn't giving it back until he'd accomplished his mission. "I'll be back for you, I promise."

He couldn't just go charging into time; he had to think. What would be the best way to save Loki without damaging the timeline too much? Just going back and preventing Loki from stealing the Tesseract wasn't going to be enough. Steve definitely had the impression he was supposed to save Loki from Thanos. But how? Clearly, charging at the Mad Titan as he's attacking the Asgardians was suicide. Steve barely survived the first two times he'd faced Thanos. He wouldn't do Natasha any good if he got himself killed. He would have to be smart about it.

What other point in time would Loki and the Tesseract have been in the same place? He wracked his brain the whole way down the mountain. He really needed Thor; he would know. Didn't Thor mention something about Thanos getting the Tesseract from Loki? That was right after Asgard was destroyed. _Of course._

All he had to go was going back to 2018 Asgard, find Loki with the cube and convince the God of Mischief to help. How hard could it be?

There was only one way to find out.

**Asgard 2018**

Steve had traveled through the quantum realm enough that nothing phased him. He landed in Odin's Treasure Room; at least, he hoped that'd where he was. He'd once listened to Thor describe it; it looked like what he'd been told. Cavernous, white stone, torches. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a flash; Steve hurried ducked behind a pillar.

Loki marched determinedly down the corridor; he was clearly seeking something. He looked different from when Steve had last seen him; the god carried himself differently. Thor had said that Loki had been finding his way just before his death. It made his sacrifice much more tragic. Steve could only pray this kinder, gentler Loki would hear him out.

Abruptly, Loki stopped. "Who's there?"

Steve stepped out of the shadows. "Hey Loki."

Loki arched an incredulous brow at him. "Captain?"

"You remember."

"Yes, well, my brother can be quite obnoxious about his friends."

The corner of his lips quirked up. "Thor's a good man. He deserves a better brother."

Loki glanced away. "What do you know of brothers, Captain?"

"More than you think." Bucky was his brother; so was Sam. They were closer than any bond of blood. Loki and Thor grew up together; they might not be blood, but they would always be brothers. "Now are you gonna attack me or can we talk?"

The room around them trembled and shook. "I don't know if you noticed, Captain, but I am a _bit_ busy. Mad sister and all that."

"This should only take a minute. What I'm about to say might sound crazy, but I really need you to hear me out. I'm from the future." He approached slowly, describing the situation as succinctly as he could. Loki seemed skeptical at first, but when Steve told him about Thanos almost killing Thor, his face fell.

"Always so stubborn," Loki muttered.

"But you save him," Steve said softly. "He's your brother."

"Of course, he's my brother!" Loki cried, the anguish written all over his face. Then he looked intently at Steve. "There's something you're not telling me, mortal."

"Thanos gets the stone, the Tesseract. He becomes too strong to defeat. Thor said…you die a hero, Loki."

Loki shook his head. "That's impossible."

"Is it?" Steve got in the god's face. "Why is it so hard to believe that you could do something noble? Thor believed in you."

"Thor doesn't trust me."

"Then why did he send you down here?" Steve fixed Loki with a stare until the older god raised his eyes once more. "You can help me save someone I care about. Someone Thor cares about. And if we do it right, we can save you too. You can see your brother again. He misses you, Loki. More than he will admit. It's been…hard for him. I should have been there for him, but I messed up too. Together, we can make this right. But only if we trust each other."

The silence hung heavy in the room. Loki took several deep breaths; Steve could see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, the God of Mischief nodded. "What do we have to do?"

"How do you feel about time travel?"

Steve didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this. He was hiding in the bowels of the Asgardian ship, trusting Loki of all people. Loki said he had a plan; Steve had to trust that the God of Mischief didn't just leave him there to die with the rest of the Asgardians. It went against his nature, but Steve was willing to take that leap. Thor had.

He heard soft footsteps; if it weren't for his enhanced hearing he would have missed it. Steve braced himself for battle, just in case. The door to the compartment creaked open and Loki stepped through it. "Expecting someone else, Captain?"

Steve relaxed. "Can you blame me for being a little on edge?"

Loki sobered. "No, I suppose not. I have to admit this is strange for me as well."

"Yeah, can we get on with it?"

"My double is in place. If your memory is accurate, the sooner we leave the better."

"Magic?"

Loki grinned; a quick flash turned Loki into an exact replica of Steve. It was a bit disconcerting. "My mother taught me well, mortal."

"She was a good person. I liked her."

Loki looked a bit pained as he turned back into himself. "You met Frigga?"

"Yeah, doing this. I think she would have been proud of her sons."

"I hope so." Loki straightened. "Shall we?"

Steve nodded, extracting his spare quantum suit. He never expected to need it; he was thankful Bruce had insisted. Steve handed it to Loki, who seemed wary as he placed it on the back of his hand. The white and red suit covered him, just as it did Steve. Steve showed him how to work the controls, setting the coordinates for New York 2012. All they had to do was stop _that_ Loki from stealing the Tesseract and avoid bumping into anyone they knew.

Not as easy as it sounded.

Steve and Loki appeared just outside of Stark tower; the 2012 version of the Avengers were not yet in the lobby. "Explain to me again what happened," Loki order softly.

Steve did. The plan was for Scott to get the case holding the Tesseract from 2012 Tony by giving him a mild heart attack. 2023 Tony would then take the case and get out of Dodge. It worked flawlessly until the Hulk burst out of the staircase and dislodged the Tesseract from its case.

"So how do we fix it?"

Loki grinned. "Leave it to me, Captain." Before his eyes Loki once again glamored himself, turning into one of the nearby cops. "Back in a tic."

Steve ducked out of sight, finding an alcove to hide in that still gave him a view of the lobby. He could see Tony—also dressed as cop—waiting for the others to come down the elevator. Steve's chest tightened; God, he was _right there._ A part of him wanted to run up to his friend and hug him. That would blow the entire operation! He had to stay focused. Tony had given his life for everyone, including Steve. The best way to honor his friend's memory was to get Natasha back and actually _live._

For the first time, he tried to imagine what that could look like. There was a chance that Nat didn't share his feelings. He hoped he was wrong. They were close, had been for years. They often shared these _looks_ when no one was watching, looks he'd dismissed at first. Now it was all he could think about. During their time on the run, he and Nat had posed at a married couple more than once; it wasn't as difficult as he expected. They just _fit_ together, understanding each other without words. He missed that. He loved Sam like a brother, but Steve always gravitated toward Nat. He was so stupid not to have seen it!

If he actually managed to bring her back, he would do things right. He would court her and romance her, even (when) she teased him about it. He wanted all of it and he wanted it with her.

He got so lost in his thoughts he nearly forgot about the mission. Loki strode past Tony, who noticed nothing amiss. If they'd timed this correctly the past Avengers should be exiting the elevator. Steve clenched his jaw he saw Loki start to subtly stalk the group. This was the moment of truth; could he trust this Loki? Steve wanted to believe he could. For Nat's sake. Hell, for Thor's sake.

2012 Tony and Thor were brought up short by Director Pierce; Christ, Steve had forgotten about him! He clenched his fist, bracing himself to spring in, just in case. It all went down as Tony had described, a verbal tussle with Pierce, Tony collapsing, the case skittering across the floor. 2023 Tony picked it up, hurrying toward the exit.

It was hard to watch. They had to allow Hulk to burst through the door; Tony needed to lose the case. It burst open, the Tesseract gliding over the floor, right toward an imprisoned Loki. Steve was moving before he could think, intent on reaching it first. But even his enhanced speed wasn't going to be enough. Time seemed to slow down the glowing cube inching toward Loki.

And then it wasn't.

It disappeared.

Steve came up short; no one noticed him in the chaos. He spotted someone out of the corner of his eye; Steve hurried in the direction. Once he was clear of the building he dove for the figure, tackling him to the ground. "Not so fast, buddy."

There was a dry laugh under him. "One would think you didn't trust me, Captain."

"Loki?"

Another flash revealed the God of Mischief, a smirk on his face. "I had the situation perfectly under control."

"Can you blame me for being overly cautious?"

Loki sobered a bit. "True. Are you going to let me up?"

"Oh, right." Steve pushed himself up, dusting off his uniform. "You got it?"

Loki held out his hand, the Tesseract appeared. "I am a man of my word." Steve arched a brow incredulously. "Alright fine, only recently. It's new for me too."

Steve took the cube from him. "We need to get this back to the Avengers."

"Do you really call yourselves that? I thought Stark was making that up."

"Blame Fury." Steve thought it was a bit hokey at first too, but it had grown on him. Seeing all their friends go up against Thanos…the Avengers were so much more than the six original members. It really was an extended family. What did that mean for him? Did he still have a place? Did they even need him? Could he finally get a life? _Bring back Nat first, Rogers,_ he scolded himself. He'd deal with the rest later.

"How do you propose we get this back to the No Fun League?"

"Leave that to me." Being back in this time, Steve was back in his original Avengers uniform. He should be able to walk up and place the Tesseract back in the case with no one the wiser. "Stay here." He doubled back the way he'd come, scanning for the Tony and Scott from his time. They appeared long gone, thankfully. Paramedics were around 2012 Tony, checking that he was okay. He was ranting about them disturbing his shawarma time; Steve had to suppress a grin. As much as Tony drove him crazy, he deeply missed his friend. Always would. What did a world without Tony Stark look like?

"There you are, Rogers."

He froze. Christ, it was _Nat._ He'd completely forgotten. She was striding toward him, her short red hair bouncing as she walked. He'd always preferred her as a redhead. It just suited her. He had to get it together. "Romanoff."

She tilted her head. "You alright?"

"Yeah, fine. I found this," he produced the Tesseract, offering it to her. "No harm done."

"I'm not sure Tony would agree with you."

"He'll be fine."

She smirked at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost think you _liked_ him."

"I was wrong about him. He's not just a…" He blanked for a moment; that conversation had been so long ago. He'd underestimated Tony. Regret filled him; he wished they could have reconciled sooner.

"A billionaire playboy philanthropist?"

"Yeah, that."

"Be careful, Cap. People will start doubting that Boy Scout thing."

"You think I'm a Boy Scout?"

"Aren't you?"

"I think you'd be surprised." Seeing her now, flushed with victory, exhaustion tugging at the edges of her eyes, he wondered how he could have ignored her for so long. Natasha hid behind a mask of snark and indifference, but he knew she was so much more than that. She truly deserved to be happy.

She gave him an odd look, but let it go. "Come on, before Tony eats all the shawarma."

"I'll be there in a sec."

She gave him another weird look, but she shrugged. Steve raced in the opposite direction, knowing his double would be appearing any moment. Fortunately, with no memory of having fought him. That had been a strange enough experience the first time around. He managed to exit without anyone else noticing; he was mildly surprised to find Loki exactly where he'd left him. "It's done."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"A couple, actually." He tapped the pouch that contained the Soul Stone. "We need to get out of here."

"And go where exactly?"

"I haven't quite figured that out yet."

He started to reach for his quantum GPS, but Loki stopped him with a hand. Not threatening but determined. "I think it's time you tell me exactly what happened, Captain."

"We don't have time." He didn't think he could recount it again. They'd fixed it. They'd brought everyone back. And lost Tony and Nat. The Loki he'd known remained dead.

"We have time travel at our disposal," Loki pointed out. "I think you owe me the truth. The whole truth. What happened to Thor? After?"

Steve's temper flared. "So, you can gloat?" he snapped. "You always wanted the throne for yourself."

"I did once," he admitted. "Right now, all I want is my brother."

Could Loki have really changed? He prayed for Thor's sake it was true. "He tried to kill Thanos. To avenge you. To avenge your people. But he failed. Thanos used the glove to wipe out half of life in the whole universe. We tried to fix it, but it was too late. We set what remained of the Asgardians up in Norway, but Thor…he changed. He withdrew from all of us, from his duties. Like I said, it was hard."

Loki looked stricken. "Oh Thor. You were always too hard on yourself, brother."

"We need to make a choice. I can bring you back with me. Thor left with the Guardians, but…"

"You'd bring me back to Earth?" Loki asked, surprised.

"Are you gonna behave?"

Loki chuckled. "There's a first time for everything, I suppose." Then his brow crinkled in thought. "You should leave me where I was taken out of the timeline, in 2018. Right before Thanos."

"But why? The point is to save your life, Loki. Thanos could snap you."

"Not if he believes me already dead. Think of it as my penance."

"And what about Thor? You'd have to avoid him for five years. That won't be easy."

"Oh, I won't be far." Loki snapped his fingers—not funny under the circumstances—and transformed himself into a simple farmer or fisherman. It didn't suit him at all. Taking in Steve's face, Loki transformed back into himself. "Trust me. I'll keep my distance."

"The fate of the universe depends on that, Loki."

Loki's dark eyes were deadly serious. "It won't be the first time I've sacrificed myself for my brother. Please let me do this, Captain. I won't let you down."

This was a completely different man than the one in custody a few blocks away. Loki could still be mischievous and snarky when he wanted to be, but Steve could see how much Thor meant to him. It was heartwarming to see. Not breaking Loki's gaze, Steve held out his hand. "Alright."

Loki shook his hand firmly. "Now let's get me there so you can save your spy."

Steve snatched his hand back. "How did you know?"

"Subtle you are not."

Steve growled under his breath. It didn't matter. Soon Loki would be the least of his worries. He nodded at his traveling companion, summoning his quantum suit with a touch. The suits wrapped around them; Steve gave the coordinates to 2018. In a blink, they were sucked into the quantum realm. When they landed, Steve blinked, disoriented. "Where are we?"

"Norway, I'd think that was obvious."

"It's a cliff."

"This is the place where my father died."

Steve wasn't sure what to say. From what Thor had said, Loki never really had a good relationship with Odin. Finally, he settled on, "I'm sorry."

"This is where Thor will build New Asgard."

Now that Steve looked around, he realized Loki was right. "How did you know?"

"Because I know my brother. Leave me, Steve Rogers. I won't cause any trouble. Not much, anyway." Loki couldn't resist that little tease. He was still the God of Mischief after all.

There really wasn't anything else to say. Steve still had a mission. _I'm coming, Nat. I'm bringing you back._ No matter what happened after that, just having her back would be worth all this. She didn't deserve to die that way. Nodding once more at Loki, Steve pressed the button for his quantum suit. This time he made the jump without hesitation.

Red Skull was exactly where Steve had left him. "I did it. Loki is alive and well. Now keep your end of the deal, Skull. Give Natasha back to me."

"You have the Stone?"

"Right here." Steve fished it out of the pouch, the orange stone shining through his clenched fingers. It was warm, almost too warm to touch. The hole remained in the glove of his suit, but Steve didn't care.

"First the stone, then the girl."

"You better not be lying about this." Steve wrenched his arm back and threw it as far as he could. He lost sight of it quickly as it fell into the abyss. There was a blinding flash; Steve stumbled back. He tripped on something—he realized too late it was Clint's discarded bow. His breath left him in a rush; he struggled to get up. "Nat!" he half shouted, half wheezed. _"Nat!"_

Silence reigned for long seconds. For an agonizing moment, Steve thought it didn't work. Then, "Steve?"

Nat stood nearby, looking utterly confused, glancing from him to her body. "What happened?"

Steve pushed himself up and closed the distance between them in three long strides. He couldn't speak; tears stung his eyes. Rather than answer her, he crushed her to his chest, still not sure if she was real. She certainly felt real enough, warm and soft and _alive._ Natasha hugged him back, still confused. Far too soon, she snapped back to reality. "Clint! Where's Clint? We were fighting, stubborn ass wouldn't let me go…"

"Shhh. Clint's fine. Everyone's fine." Well, almost.

"We did it?" Her green eyes shined with happy tears; her chin wobbled. Steve couldn't remember the last time he saw her this emotional. "We won?"

Part of him wanted to kiss her, pour all his grief into her, but he restrained himself. "We won. Nat, we won."

Natasha couldn't speak. She was so confused, but she had to admit that she was happy to see Steve. When she'd been arguing with Clint about who would jump, she'd forced herself to push Steve from her thoughts. She couldn't dwell on what ifs or regrets, not in that moment. She and Steve had been close for what felt like forever; he would understand why she had to do what she did. And yet…he was _here_. What had he done to bring her back? More importantly, _why?_ The emotion in his blue eyes both shook her and stunned her. He was looking at her in ways she'd only dreamed of before.

Not that she would admit that out loud.

Steve Rogers was her friend. After Clint, her best friend. She would be lying if she didn't admit that she wondered what things would be like if they were _more_ than just friends. But she believed his heart belonged to another, someone he could never get back. What hope did she stand against a memory? Rather than dwell on what might have been, she focused on being his friend. It was easier that way.

Unable to think of anything to say, she buried her head in his broad chest. She soaked in his comforting presence, sighing a little as he cradled the back of her head.

As much as Steve didn't want to let her go, he didn't want to stay in this Godforsaken place either. He did allow himself one indulgence though. Ever so gently, he kissed the crown of her head. She didn't even notice, for which he was glad. There was so much he wanted to say, but now was not the time to say it.

"Ready for the trip home?"

"You're not gonna tell me how you managed this, are you, Rogers?"

His lips slid into that teasing half grin she loved so much. Steve so rarely just enjoyed the moment, especially since the Snap. She liked having her Steve back. "Another time, Romanoff. I promise."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, soldier." She'd been curious before, but now she was _really_ intrigued. Steve did something…monumental, she was certain of it. All for her. Why? "Everyone back at the ranch?"

Steve sobered. He should tell her before they went back. "About that…Nat, some things will be different when we get back to the present, our present."

"Different how? You said we won."

"We did. But there was a cost."

"There always is." It came with the job. She knew that. Once, she'd tried to reach for more and it blew up in her face. Bruce was gone for two years, then came the Snap, but even then, she never had any desire to rekindle their sort of romance. She'd simply come to believe none of that was in the cards for her. As long as she had the job, she was good.

"This time it was high." There was no other way to say it. "Tony's dead."

Natasha frowned. That didn't make sense. "Dead? How? When?"

"Bruce, he used the glove we made, brought everyone back. He almost didn't survive it. But the Thanos from this time followed us. He blasted the compound and tried to get the stones. Nearly did. But Tony…" Steve took a deep breath; Tony's sacrifice still choked him up. "He got the stones away from Thanos, then he used them to end it."

Nat covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh god." If Bruce as the Hulk barely made it out…Tony was very human and very mortal, despite an ego the size of Jupiter. She was surprised at the tears that splashed down her cheeks. Tony could drive her nuts sometimes, but he was just as much family as Clint or Steve or Thor. And Pepper and that little girl of his…they must be devastated. "Pepper?"

"Doing the best she can. She was there too, at the battle."

"She was?"

"You'd have been proud, Nat. Carol, Pepper, Valkyrie, Okoye. Wanda almost took out Thanos by herself."

Nat did smile. "I'll bet she did."

"I certainly wouldn't want to mess with her."

"Afraid, Captain?"

"Not a chance, Agent Romanoff." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "We really missed you, Natasha."

Something about the way he said it gave her pause. "They don't know you did this, do they?"

Steve shook his head. "No one thought it could be done. But I, uh, found a loophole, I guess."

She covered his hand with hers. "I'm glad you did. Now, let's go home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Wow, the response to this fic was way more than I expected! Thanks to everyone who has commented, liked and followed! Remember when I said this was probably a two shot? Well, the muse lied. It's going to be at least a three shot. I don't think anyone's really complaining, but I just wanted to let everyone know. I hope you enjoy this update!

**Disclaimer:** Damn the Russos for teasing us with what might have been!

**Chapter 2**

"Five…four…three…two…one."

Sam stared at the quantum platform—the whole time travel thing still sounded dodgy to him, but who was he to argue—and waited. And waited. He turned to Bruce. "Where. Is. He?"

Bruce flipped switches and dials, glancing between Sam and the platform. "I don't know! He should be here. He's missed the time stamp!"

"Get him back! Right now!" Steve was the best friend Same had ever had; he couldn't imagine a world without him. They'd already lost five years thanks to Thanos. He didn't want to lose anymore.

"I'm trying!"

"Sam," Bucky cut in, laying a hand on his arm.

"Don't you start," Sam warned. "You want him here just as much as I do."

Before Bucky could argue some more—he was pretty sure he knew exactly where Steve was, and he knew Sam wouldn't like it—Bruce called out. "I found something! Hang on!"

"Steve!" Sam yelled, approaching the platform. "Steve!"

"Sam, I…" But Bucky was distracted by the whirling machine. There was a flash and some sparks; everyone ducked. When he straightened, Bucky's jaw dropped. "Holy shit."

"What?" Sam added, confused, then he saw it too. "Well, damn." Steve was back alright, and he wasn't alone.

Bruce's eyes widened as the quantum suits retracted. _"Nat?"_

Natasha brushed a loose tendril away from her face. "Hi Bruce. Hey guys." Even though Steve had warned her about what awaited them, it was still throwing her. The compound was gone; they'd reappeared by a lake. She barely got a chance to breathe; suddenly, Bruce was there, crushing her to his chest. "Um, okay," she wheezed.

Bruce released her quickly. "Sorry, sorry. This is…wow. Nat. How?"

She shrugged. "Ask Steve, not me."

Three pairs of eyes turned to Steve, who carefully kept his face neutral. Nat had asked him the same thing; he knew he needed to explain. He wanted to explain. And yet it didn't feel like something he wanted to just announce. He wasn't that guy. "It's a long story," he said, trying to sound calm about it.

"Who cares?" Sam cried. He marched up to Natasha and hugged her tight. "Missed you, girl."

Nat hugged him back; Sam was like the little brother she never had. "Missed you too, Sam."

Bucky couldn't stop looking at Steve. Something happened, something big. Steve was trying to hide it, but Bucky could tell. Steve was shit at keeping secrets, always had been. But they could figure it out later. He walked up to the platform and hugged Natasha too. "Romanoff."

"This is different," she said wryly.

He chuckled. "Let's just say I'm hoping we can start over."

She grinned. This man was Steve's closest friend; she was starting to see why. She was looking forward to getting to know the real Bucky Barnes. "I'd like that." Now that she was back; she wasn't sure where to start. Aside from Clint. She needed to talk to him. From what Steve said, Clint had taken Laura and the kids back to the farm after Tony's funeral. "Any of you boys happen to have a phone?"

Sam fished out his phone. "Here ya go."

"You're a lifesaver, Wilson." Nat glanced back at Steve, who gave her an understanding smile. She smiled back at him, then she hopped off the platform. He watched her leave, at a bit of a loss. There was so much he wanted—needed—to say to her, but this wasn't the time. He'd spent so much of his life waiting for the right time; he couldn't waste this second chance, not when he fought so hard for it.

Steve stepped down from the platform; he could almost feel Bucky's curiosity coming off him in waves. Great. "I'm good too, guys, thanks for asking."

Sam arched a brow at him. "You know, for a second, I thought you might not be coming back."

Steve shrugged. "I had a few detours."

Sam crossed his arms. "Detours? Is that how you're explaining what happened with Nat? How _did_ you bring her back? From what Clint said, it was impossible."

"We work in impossible every day, Sam."

He smiled. "True." He seemed satisfied for the moment, but Steve wasn't fooled. They would come back to this soon enough. Steve watched Sam head back toward the cabin, no doubt to tell everyone else the good news. Steve walked in the opposite direction, toward the lake. He wasn't surprised when Bucky followed him. They settled on the bench, neither speaking for a long time.

Finally, Steve held out his hand, showing off the burned hole in his glove. "Remind me never to go into space again."

Bucky chuckled. "I gave up trying to tell you what to do years ago, buddy." He glanced sidelong at Steve. "Though, I have to admit, I am a little surprised you're back. Thrilled, mind, but surprised."

Steve nodded. "I'm a little surprised myself."

"What changed your mind?"

Steve stared out into the lake. It really was peaceful here; he could see why Tony chose this as the place to retire. It was beautiful. "Would you believe me if I said Peggy?"

"Buddy, we're both over a century. We saved the world from an alien invasion. There's not much I wouldn't believe at this point."

Steve smiled to himself. This was what he'd missed these last few years. He didn't have to be Captain America with Bucky; he could just be Steve. He couldn't believe he'd almost thrown this away. "Just remember, you asked, pal." He told Bucky everything. Seeing Thor's mother, the Ancient One, Peggy. For the first time in a very long time, thoughts of Peggy didn't fill him with longing. He still missed her, he always would, but he could see clearly now. He was so grateful they got to see each other again. He would treasure that memory. But Peggy was his past. He understood that now. He was done hiding. He was going to live his life and find the happiness that he'd always dreamed of.

He just prayed Natasha wanted that too.

"That's a hell of a story," Bucky blew out, slightly incredulous despite his earlier boasting. "I gotta hand it to you, Steve. You never do anything halfway."

Steve swallowed heavily. "I wasted so much time, Buck. Why did I do that?"

Bucky clapped his dearest friend on the shoulder. "I got no answers for ya. But the question is now: what are ya gonna do about it?"

Steve scrubbed his hand over his face. "Honestly? I haven't the first clue." Romance was never his forte. "Dinner?"

Buck laughed, a proper belly shaking laugh. He was all too familiar with Steve's cooking. "You want to romance her, not poison her."

Steve couldn't help himself from laughing too. "What if I can't do this?"

"Captain America? You got this."

"Buck…" Suddenly, the prospect of actually telling Nat how he felt was overwhelming.

"Hey, I'm serious." Bucky flexed the fingers of his metal arm. "We've lost a lot, Steve. Not many people would understand, but I think…I _know_ she would."

"You hardly know her."

Bucky frowned. "I remember though." He didn't like to think about the things he'd done while under HYDRA's control, but it no longer held him captive the way it once had. He no longer feared turning on those nearest and dearest to him at one simple phrase. He recalled the feisty red head who'd protected a scientist he'd been sent to kill. He shot through her to get to him. If that woman could see what an amazing guy his best friend was, then he was all for it. Steve deserved to be happy. He'd earned it.

Bucky, on the other hand, still had some work to do.

"Bucky, you don't have to. She already told me."

"Yeah, I figured." He gave Steve a wry grin. "You always gotta go for the feisty ones, dontcha?"

Now, it was Steve's turn to smile. "Guess I've got a type, huh?"

"You said it, not me." Bucky rose. "Come on. We've got some work to."

"We?"

"Of the two of us, who has more experience in the romance department?"

Steve sighed. "Point taken." He just hoped he didn't regret whatever crazy thing Bucky was cooking up.

* * *

"Nat? What? _How?"_ Clint stuttered over the line. She heard him sniffle; she hated that he'd had to suffer, even though she knew she made the right choice.

"Honestly, I don't know the details. Steve brought me back. Something about an exchange."

"Cap?"

"Yeah. He said he was on a mission to return the stones. Whatever loophole he found brought me back."

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch," Clint breathed. He would find a way to thank Steve for this. Guilt at being alive when Natasha was gone—especially after what he'd done—gnawed at him. He knew she would scold him, but nothing about what happened on Vormir was fair. It should have been him.

She wished he was there so she could hug him. "How are Laura and the kids? They okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're fine. We just got back, but we can head back there."

"Don't be ridiculous, Clint," she scolded. "They've been through enough."

"We're coming," Clint barked, cutting her off. "No sense arguing, Nat."

She desperately wanted to see him. Laura and the kids too. Before the Avengers, they were her family. "Okay," she agreed. "But tomorrow. It's late there. That's an order, Agent Barton!"

Clint laughed. "God, I'm glad you're back. Missed you, Nat."

Natasha smiled even though he couldn't see her. "Yeah, me too."

They were silent for a long time, clinging to the knowledge that this wasn't a dream. Natasha was really back. Finally, Clint spoke. "So, Cap, huh?"

Immediately, she straightened. "Don't start, Clint."

"Come on, Nat. He's had a crush on you for years!"

"What? That's crazy." Clint had believed this for a while, but she knew it was nuts. It made no sense! Steve was her friend. He would have done the same for any of them. Wouldn't he? Yet, the way he held her after she came back…after everything that happened, she didn't dare let herself hope. Besides, she _just_ got back. Her love life was the least of her worries.

"Believe what you want, Agent Romanoff," Clint teased.

"You're impossible." But the jibe held no spite.

"And you, Natasha, are back in this crazy messed up world. Are you gonna let it pass you by again?"

* * *

Natasha stared out the window, not taking in much as the countryside sped past. She was exhausted. Perhaps not physically, but emotionally. She'd only been back for a few days, but there was a lot for her to catch up on and process. Unfortunately, the one person who could answer her many questions seemed to be avoiding her. Why? Steve sat beside her in the driver's seat; it was the first time they'd been alone—truly alone—since she got back. It was both a sourse of frustration and relief. She wanted answers, but she was a little worried about what those answers might mean. Instead, she focused on everyone else around her.

First, there was Pepper. She'd graciously allowed the team to stay at the cabin for her first few days back; Nat finally got to pay her respects to Tony. It was still so hard to believe he was gone. Pepper put on a brave face, but Nat knew better. That kind of grief didn't just go away. It festered if you let it. Whenever she could, she coaxed Pepper and little Morgan out of the house, taking long walks. Morgan was simply precious, a genius like her dad. More than once Nat found her tinkering in Tony's garage, sometimes with a helper (usually an Avenger), sometimes not. They all took an interest in the little girl, determined to keep Tony's memory alive.

It was easier with other kids. True to his word, Clint and the girls appeared the day after they spoke, practically mobbing her. There were a lot of tears and hugs; Laura scolded her, ordering her to never do something so foolish again. For a little while, they felt like one big messy family and Nat had never been happier to be alive.

Eventually though, she knew it was time to leave. The cabin wasn't far from the city or what was left of the Avengers compound; it would be easy enough to visit. Nat wanted to see what was left of home. She hadn't known many homes in her life; she was furious that Thanos had destroyed hers. In the short term, she agreed to stay with Steve, in his little apartment in Brooklyn.

Steve forced himself loosen his grip on the steering wheel. He still hadn't told anyone but Bucky what happened on Vormir. He knew he should, but it never felt right. There were so many people around; it was easier to settle into the background while everyone else soaked in Nat's presence. He was just so damn grateful to have her back; it felt wrong to push things too fast. Still, there were a few times he caught her looking at him oddly or reach for him only to pull her hand back at the last moment.

Now, she was going to be staying with him for the foreseeable future. Clint offered to take her back to the farm, but Nat said she preferred to stay in New York. Until she found something of her own, that meant staying with Steve. He tried not to be _too_ happy about that, despite the shit eating grin Bucky had given him just before they left. Jerk.

"You're awfully quiet, soldier," Nat said, slicing through the silence. If she was going to stay with him, then she needed him to talk to her.

"Some of us need to focus on the road."

She swiveled her head, a smirk curling her lips. When in doubt, stick to banter. She could do banter. "Always the Boy Scout, huh?"

Steve's sharp intake of breath was second only to the sudden racing of his heart. Did she _remember_ that? He didn't see how she could, but time travel was weird. "Yeah, they're one of the few things older than me," he quipped, hoping she didn't see his surprise.

"I don't know. You've always seemed pretty spry for an old guy."

"Romanoff…"

Nat curled closer in her seat, smiling at him. "Come on, you know you missed my old man Steve jokes."

He glanced at her for a moment. "You haven't done that for a while," he observed. Not since the first snap. Nat stayed sarcastic, but the playful banter stopped. They were both hurting, lost during those years. She wrapped herself up in work; he had his support group. Back then, Steve split his time between Brooklyn and the compound, simply because he didn't want her to be alone.

Nat suddenly became very interested in her fingernails. "It didn't feel right," she said at last. "We were still here but everyone else was gone."

"I know." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "But for the record, I did miss the jokes. I missed you."

"I didn't go anywhere, Steve."

"We all did," Steve said firmly. "We all lost a part of ourselves. We fought like hell to get it back. But now we gotta move forward."

"I'm not sure I know how to do that." She never allowed herself to want anything. She was a spy. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She was an Avenger. In a lot of ways, she was still figuring out who Natasha was.

"I'll help. If you'll let me."

There was something about the way he said it that gave her pause. Not in a bad way. But there was a vulnerability she'd rarely seen from him. There were a thousand thoughts in her head; she couldn't settle on one. Instead, she reached across and slipped her hand into his; she smiled when he squeezed her fingers. "We'll be there soon," he promised. "Although, I can't speak for the cleanliness of the place. Haven't been home in a while."

"That's okay. I've slept in worse places."

"Me too."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Steve struggled not to flex his fingers too tightly around her smaller ones; it felt good just to hold her hand. He pretended to think. "Behind German lines, little town. There was this barn, safe, you know?"

"I'm sensing a but."

"Well, when we got there it was dark. Couldn't see a thing. We didn't realize until morning that we'd bedded down in the pig slops."

Natasha burst out laughing. "And who picked out this hiding place?"

"Bucky. We didn't let him hear the end of it for weeks. At least until…"

"He fell?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry, Steve." Her country was the one who stole Steve's best friend and brainwashed him into being a killer. She'd witnessed first hand how much having Bucky back meant to him; Steve would do anything for the people he loved.

_Oh shit._

Steve had defied governments and armies and his closest friends for Bucky Barnes. Then somehow, some way, he brought her back from the dead. Steve Rogers had managed to reverse an eternal exchange, all for her. What did that mean?

"Nat? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She wanted to know the answers to her questions, but the answers terrified her. Clint kept insisting that Steve harbored some sort of feelings for her, but that made no sense. He was _Steve_, Captain Freaking America, wholesome and good. And she was…not. She'd hoped that sacrificing herself would wipe the red from her ledger, but now she was back. What did that mean for her?

Steve didn't like the silence that descended, but he didn't know how to bridge it. Talking to Natasha usually came easily to him, much easier than any other woman he'd ever known. Now it felt like he was puny Steve again, tongue tied and shy. He knew why. Natasha meant more to him than anyone else. He was getting a second chance with her, and he was terrified of blowing it.

The tension lingered. Steve pulled into the building's underground garage; in the morning, they would need to get a keycard for her. In the meantime, he gathered their few belongings and led the way upstairs.

Nat couldn't hide her smile as she entered. The apartment was small, but it was cozy. Two soft looking leather chairs sat in front of the fireplace; a TV was mounted above it. An old school record player rested to one side, along with several shelves of LPs and albums. The kitchen was utilitarian, functional and clean. There was a short hall that she supposed led to the bedroom and bathroom.

"It's not much," Steve said quietly. "I've never needed much though."

She smiled. "I remember."

He dropped her small bag onto one of the chairs. "Can I get you anything?" He glanced toward the kitchen. "Though come to think of it, I'm not sure what I have. I haven't, uh, been here in a while." Ever since Scott came to them with his time travel theory, he'd been going non-stop. This was the first real down time he'd had. Staying with Pepper and Morgan didn't count.

"Steve, you don't have to do this. I'm a big girl, you know."

"The world out there is kinda crazy at the moment," he chided gently. "I want to do this."

Her heart fluttered. Staying with him was either going to be the best decision ever or the worst. She found herself really hoping for the former.

They wound up ordering in; there was a good Chinese place down the street. They settled into friendly camaraderie for a few hours, almost like no time had passed. Nat had never visited him in Brooklyn, but Steve didn't feel awkward having her in his space. Things were fine until he noticed her falling asleep. "Hey," he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. "Tired?"

Nat made an annoyed sound. "What?"

"You were sleeping." He suppressed a smile; she was so cute, curled up in the other chair. Of course, he couldn't help but wish she would have curled up against him, but baby steps. "I think it might be time for bed." Which brought up another tricky scenario. His place only had one bed.

Nat pushed herself up, stretching her arms over her head. "How long was I out?"

"Not long. Was the movie that boring?"

She offered him a little half smile. "I wouldn't say boring. Do you have anything prior to 1950?"

"Are you insulting my taste in movies, Agent Romanoff?"

"No! I just think we can broaden your horizons."

"I'll take that under advisement." He rose and led her toward his bedroom. "Bathroom's across the hall. We can go shopping tomorrow, get you some stuff. In the meantime, use whatever you need."

All of Natasha's belongings had been at the compound, which Thanos had courteously blown to hell. Nat was really glad Thanos was dead or she would have had a go at him herself. Bastard. All she had now were a few things Pepper had lent her. She stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth, leaving Steve to do…whatever he did to get ready for bed. They'd shared dingy hotel rooms multiple times when they were fugitives; they'd developed comfort around each other. But this felt different. Steve still wouldn't tell her exactly what he'd done to bring her back, but it felt big. Like really big. He'd defied the cosmos to bring her back; she didn't know why. Sure, they were friends, family even, but deep down, she knew it was more than that. The way he looked at her when he thought she couldn't see filled her with questions. Had it always been there? Did she miss it? She just wanted to understand, because it was all little overwhelming.

When she came back, the bed was turned down and Steve was dressed in an old shirt and low slung sweatpants. Okay. She attributed the slight increase in her heart rate to her lack of recent exposure to casual Steve Rogers. Yeah, that was it. "Bathroom's free," she announced needlessly.

"Great." He shuffled awkwardly for a second—it was very cute—then took a few steps in that direction. "I'll just do…my stuff then veg out in the living room."

Natasha frowned. "You don't have to do that, Steve. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before." Which was true. And this was _his_ place, after all. She couldn't just kick him out of his bed.

"Nat, it's not that."

"You're a terrible liar, Rogers." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't be ridiculous. This is your place. I'm just a guest."

"Exactly. Guests get the bed."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. It's more than big enough for both of us."

God, she could be stubborn! Steve knew she would argue with him, just for the sake of arguing. "Fine," he conceded. "Back in a minute."

What the hell was he supposed to do now? None of his carefully laid plans included anything like this. He wanted to go shopping, make her a nice meal or two (or at least try). He wanted to ease into the truth; the last thing he wanted was to scare her away. Hell, he was still figuring things out himself. He knew he loved her. Now that it was pointed out to him it was obvious. He'd loved her for so long; he hated all the wasted time. But what if she didn't feel the same way?

_You won't know until you tell her,_ he thought, squeezing the lip of the sink in frustration. But not tonight. It was late; they needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow, they could start fresh.

Natasha settled in the bed; it was a bit firmer than she liked. She curled on her side; it smelled like Steve. She inhaled deeply; it was comforting. Being back was still a work in progress for her; she'd resigned herself to the end. She was thrilled to be back with the people she loved most, but beyond that, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Especially since she was certain Steve had done something huge to bring her back. She just wished she was sure she was worth it.

The lights were off when Steve returned; he tiptoed over to the far side of the bed. Of course, Nat chose his usual spot. Typical. He pulled the duvet back as little as possible and slipped underneath. "Good night, Nat."

"Night, Steve."

Steve laid on his back, listening to her breathe. There was a good foot and a half between them, but he'd always been keenly attuned to her. It wasn't until she fell asleep that he allowed himself the same privilege.

* * *

Nat rolled over, running right into a solid wall of heat. Her eyes blinked open, confusion forcing her to wakefulness. Where was she? It was dark in the room; it took her a minute to remember. Steve's place. _Steve's bed._ Right. As _that_ realization set in, she realized that not only was she in Steve's bed, but he'd closed the space between them as they slept and drew her against him. While this wasn't the first time this had happened—strictly speaking—it felt like…something was different. Not bad different. _Definitely not_ bad different. Who wouldn't like waking up like this?

She just couldn't let herself hope. Not yet. She had to know the truth. What was he keeping from her?

Once she was awake, she couldn't get back to sleep. Not with Steve holding her like this. She thought about wriggling out of his hold—she totally could—but, if she was being honest with herself (and at this point, why not?) she really liked it. Natasha had spent most of her life not knowing what _safety_ felt like. There was no father to protect her; the Red Room made her a weapon. As a spy, she was constantly on edge, watching her back, waiting for the next thing. Even as an Avenger, there was always another threat, another mission. She didn't mind all the excitement; she thrived on it. However, in the five years post Snap, she learned some things about herself. She didn't just keep fighting the good fight because it was right. She didn't hang on to the smallest shred of her old life because the world needed her. She clung to the job because she craved family, connection. She craved it, but she also knew she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve someone like Steve Rogers in her life. And yet, he was always there. Safe, steady Steve. She knew without a doubt she might not have stayed sane without him during those five years. More than once in their two years on the run, she wondered what would happen if they crossed the line. After the Snap, being happy just felt…wrong. The job became her life.

But what now? Could Clint be right? Did Steve have feelings for her? She just couldn't see how. In all the years she'd known him, he'd never been the dating type, clinging to Peggy's memory. There was Sharon, of course, but you didn't need one of Bruce's many PhDs to know that wasn't going anywhere. It was such a shame because someone like Steve deserved all the happiness in the world. He gave so much; it was time he got something back.

As she thought, the first rays of sun started to peak over the windowsill. The curtains weren't very thick; it was just enough light to cut through the darkness. Steve remained asleep, the light and shadow cutting across his face making him look younger than she'd ever seen him. A few blonde strands hung over his eyes; Nat brushed them back as gently as she could. He stirred a little, one of his broad hands sliding up her back as he drew her closer.

Nat wet her lips, a feeling she never truly expected to associate with Steve Rogers slithered down her spine. Arousal. Objectively, Steve was a virile attractive man; she never denied that. But he was her friend, so she never let herself think about it. Most of the time. But now he was here and holding her like this and she really needed to get it together before she embarrassed herself.

"Time to get up, Romanoff," she muttered under her breath. Slowly, she tried to slide down the bed, but every inch of movement pressed her harder against Steve. He seemed to sense her, tightening his hold instinctively.

What was wriggling so much? Steve blinked his eyes open to find Nat in his arms, her face screwed up in concentration.

_Oh shit._

Steve jumped back as if burned, his face hot. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I didn't mean…"

Nat leaned back, ignoring the way her heart twisted as he leaned away from her. "It's okay."

"Is it?" They'd slept in close quarters plenty of times, but both seemed to sense this was different. Something was changing between them, but neither had put it into words.

Nat stretched out on her side and rested her head in her hand. "I guess that depends."

"On what?"

"On whatever is going on between us."

"Going on?" This was very much _not_ how Steve pictured any of this going. This was a disaster. God, he was going to _kill_ Bucky for suggesting Nat stay with him!

"Steve. I know, okay? Well, I don't know _know_ but I'm not stupid. You did something. Something really big to bring me back. But for some reason, you won't tell me."

"I want to tell you," he replied softly.

"Then what's the hold up, soldier?"

"Not the right time?"

"You, of all people, should know just how precious time is."

"A lot more now," he conceded. He had no idea where to even begin. What if she laughed in his face? No, he was being stupid. Natasha wouldn't laugh at him. Even then, she still might not believe him. And why would she? He'd only just accepted what he felt for her himself. If not for Peggy, he might never had recognized it. He turned to look at her. God, she was beautiful. Her hair was slightly mused from sleep, her green eyes looked at him with curiosity and…hope? "I've wasted far too much time in my life, Natasha."

She offered him a sympathetic half smile. "Me too."

He rolled on his side, mimicking her position. "The truth is, _what_ I did is nothing compared to _why_ I did it. The first part was easy. It was the second that scares the hell out of me."

What could frighten someone like Steve Rogers, a man who rushed headlong into danger and asked questions later? "Steve…"

To her astonishment, he reached out and covered her hand with his. His skin was warm and soft; a thrill of excitement slid down her spine. "When Clint came back without you, we were all torn up, Nat. Clint blamed himself. Thor tried to think of ways to bring you back. Bruce…let's just say he was a little more Hulk-like than Banner-like." Steve glanced away; while he knew that Nat no longer carried a torch for the guy, she had once. Steve hadn't realized back _then_ that he was jealous. He'd even gone so far as to encourage it! He really had the worst timing ever.

"Tony?"

"Determined to get the job done. For you. For everyone."

"I'm sorry," she said, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. "There was no other way."

"There's always another way." He looked into her eyes. She deserved the truth. "When I decided to be the one to return the stones, I knew I wasn't coming back, Nat. There was nothing keeping me here. The job was done; the world was safe. I just…I just wanted something for myself, you know?"

She nodded. She did know. Steve was the most selfless person she'd ever known. But eventually, that kind of selflessness becomes a burden, something holding you back. "Let me guess, Peggy?"

Steve nodded. She knew him so well. "I thought that after I was finished, I could find her. Have the life I always wanted."

"What kind of life?"

"A family, a home…someone to love."

"Sounds…"

"Boring?"

"Peaceful. I've never really let myself want anything like that."

"Maybe you should try it."

"You first."

Steve took a deep breath. "I already did."

Nat looked away, something akin to jealousy slicing through her. Of course, time travel. He could have lived a whole life with Peggy before bringing her back. "That's…nice, Steve. Really nice. I'm happy for you." Abruptly, she moved, rising from the bed, intent on finding the bathroom.

But she didn't count on Steve's enhanced speed. "Nat, whatever you're thinking right now, that's not what happened."

"You don't have to coddle me, Rogers. That life, you wanted it with her. I know you did. It's why you would never date; you never even tried to be happy. You lost her. Now you got her back. Really, I'm thrilled for you."

Steve ground his teeth; this was definitely not what he had in mind. "You're right," he said finally. "I did want that life with Peggy. But not anymore. I'm not sure when it happened, but my home is right here." He slid his fingers under her chin, coaxing her to look at him. "Right here, Natasha. That's why I had to find a way to bring you back. Because I belong here…with you."

She had already opened her mouth to argue, then she promptly closed it. "What did you say?"

Feeling more hopeful than he had in days, he gently cupped her cheek. "I'm saying that…I'm in love with you, Natasha Romanoff."

The silence was deafening. Nat simply stared at him, her green eyes wide as saucers. It went on for so long; Steve finally pulled his hand away, disappointment and grief churning in his belly. Well, at least he knew now. He was her friend. Nothing more. It hurt, but not as much as believing her dead. Slowly, he turned away, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was.

Nat reached for his hand before he could get away. "Steve, don't go."

He swallowed hard. "It's alright, Nat. I understand. I…I'm still glad I did it. Brought you back."

She rolled her eyes. _"No."_ With as much force as she could muster, she yanked him back, standing as tall as she could on her toes so she could kiss him. He blinked in surprise, but he didn't pull away. It was so much like their first kiss, yet so much more. This time, Steve didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her clear off the ground. Nat wound her legs around his trim waist, never taking her lips from his. The next second Steve had her pinned between his hard body and the door and Nat did not give one single fuck. Steve _loved_ her. He'd never lied to her, but it was still a bit hard to believe. She carded her fingers through his short blond hair; his stubble burned her skin. The moment his tongue slid past her lips she was lost, drowning in him.

It was the most alive she'd ever felt.

"Steve," she breathed, humming as his lips touched her cheek, her jaw, her throat.

"Is this okay?" he asked, belatedly realizing that she hadn't really said anything.

She offered him a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Just…surprising, is all."

"You shouldn't be. You're an amazing woman, Nat."

"You're not so bad yourself."

His boyish grin melted her heart. "Yeah?"

"You're…" She bit her lip, trying to find the right words. Steve meant so much to her; it was hard to describe. "I've never known anyone like you, Steve. You're everything I was raised to hate. Every time you get knocked down, you get back up. But it's more than that. You see me, in a way no one else has. Honestly, it's a little scary."

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's good." She touched his cheek. "This is good. Different, but good."

"I have to admit, this wasn't how I planned on telling you."

"I asked," she pointed out. "Plans are overrated anyway." She leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Will you tell me the rest?"

"How about we shower and have breakfast first?"

Part of her wanted to say the hell with it and go back to bed, but Steve clearly needed to talk. And she needed to wrap her head around all this. Steve was very important to her; she didn't want to screw this up. Did she love him? It had felt so far out of the realm of possibility that she never allowed herself to go there. She knew it would be all too easy to fall in love with him. For the first time in her life, she wanted to see what would happen. This didn't feel anything like the feelings she'd once had for Bruce. No, this was bigger and scarier. She wanted to do it right.

"I hope we're ordering in, because I remember your cooking, Rogers."

It wasn't the words he wanted to hear…yet. But it was something. "We'll see, Romanoff. We'll see."

* * *

Steve insisted she use the shower first while he took care of breakfast. There was a corner market not too far from his place; he ran down there and brought back some essentials. Despite Nat's jibe about his cooking, he could manage breakfast. Remembering her love of coffee, he got a pot brewing while he began prepping the food. By the time he was finished, Nat stepped into the kitchen, her red hair still damp from the shower. She was wearing one of his shirts paired with leggings. Steve swallowed heavily, not prepared for _that._ Was she teasing him? If so, it was working.

"Something smells good."

"Coffee," he said absently. He couldn't help but look her up and down; he had to admit it was liberating to just look at her. He didn't have to hide how he felt. She knew and she wasn't turning him away.

Nat could feel his gaze on her as she went to find a coffee cup; she smiled to herself as she opened several of the cupboards in her search. It was still very new, but she liked the way this felt. She didn't think her current state of dress particularly sexy, but that didn't seem to matter. Not when Steve was looking at her like that. She finally located a mug, extracting it from the cupboard. Before she could make her way to the coffeemaker, strong arms slipped around her waist. Nat stilled, curious about what would happen next. "Steve?"

"Helping yourself to my clothes now?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"Not a single one." He did something he'd hardly allowed himself to imagine since he got her back. He lowered his lips to her neck, inhaling her scent (coupled with the distinct scent of his shower gel) as he brushed his lips over her skin.

Nat bit back a sigh, warmth spreading from Steve's touch. In so many ways, this was crazy, something out of a dream. But Steve was really here with her; he was really touching her like he wanted her. There was a dark corner of her mind that wondered when it would stop. Because it always did. She never got to have anything for herself.

Steve drew her closer to him, her back flush against his chest. He could have stayed here all day, just exploring her. But they did need to talk. He wanted to tell her everything before they tried to…date? Be together? Steve knew exactly how he felt; he needed Natasha in his life. He wanted to be with her; he wanted to build a future with her. The question was, did she want that too?

"I should go shower," he said reluctantly, his hand splayed over her stomach.

"In a minute," Nat murmured. She set her empty mug aside and turned, tugging him down to her. She kissed him, exactly the way she'd always secretly wanted to. Kissing him in that mall when they were on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D had haunted her for months. She'd forced herself to forget about it, to "move on," which sent her running headlong into the disaster with Bruce. This was nothing like that; Steve was warm and firm but gentle. She nipped at his lip; his answering growl sent a shiver down her spine. He picked her up by the waist and deposited her on the countertop, their lips never coming unglued. Nat wrapped her legs around his waist, dragging him closer. Kissing Steve was quickly becoming addicting; it was new yet comforting at the same time.

Steve let her take the lead; he was still figuring all this out. This was the most kissing he'd done…ever? It was a little embarrassing, but he was relishing it too much to care. It didn't _quite_ feel real; he half expected to wake up and find Nat still gone.

Nat felt the mood shift, just a little. She slowed, drawing one last kiss from his lips. "What is it?"

He reached up, dragging his fingers through her damp hair. The ends were still blonde, a now fond reminder of their time on the run. He remembered when she dyed it, her joke about being less conspicuous. Natasha couldn't have been less conspicuous if she tried. He'd missed the red, but he'd never said anything. There was so much he'd never said. "Is this real?"

"You're the one who brought me back. So, if it's not, we're sharing the same delusion. Which is pretty freaky."

He chuckled. "Our lives are kinda freaky, Nat."

She leaned her forehead against his. "It feels real."

"Is that good?"

She loved how nervous he was; it was adorable. "So far, you're definitely an overachiever, Rogers."

"Nat…"

She cupped his cheeks. "I'm not running away. I'm right here."

"I missed you so much. I didn't think I would ever get a chance like this."

"I am still very curious how you managed it though."

"I want to tell you everything, I do. I'm just…"

"Scared?" If something scared Steve Rogers, it had to be big.

"Something like that." How did he explain about Peggy? He wouldn't be standing here with Natasha in his arms without her. He would have abandoned his life here, his friends, his family, to live a life in the past. He'd felt so lost, so alone. But now he was here with Natasha, standing on the precipice of something really, really amazing.

At least he hoped so.

"Whenever you're ready," Natasha promised. She, of all people, knew how hard it could be to open up about stuff like that. If they were going to give…whatever this was a chance, then they needed to be all in. Nat smiled to herself; Clint would have a field day with this. _You were right after all, _she thought as Steve set her back on her feet. She watched him disappear down the hall, wondering how things between them could have changed so quickly.

But was it that fast? It wasn't like Steve was a stranger. They'd been friends and teammates for years. The only person in the world who knew her better than Steve Rogers was Clint. Over the years, she'd confided things to Steve that she'd never told another soul, not even Clint. He never judged her for her past; he accepted her exactly as she was. If she was being completely honest with herself, she'd had feelings for him for a long time. She just didn't think he felt the same way about her. He'd lost so much; it was a testament to the kind of man Steve was that he kept going. She loved that about him. She owed him so much; he'd shown her the kind of person she wanted to be.

It was terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

While Steve showered (which she was totally _not_ thinking about, thank you very much), Nat made herself useful. She got some coffee then went about finishing what Steve had started. Where had he gotten the groceries? She'd have to ask later. She started some bacon and sausage cooking, then followed the directions for pancakes. Truthfully, she wasn't a much better cook than Steve, but surely, she could manage some breakfast. Once she had the batter to an okay consistency, she started on eggs. She liked hers sunny side up, but she remembered that Steve liked his scrambled. It was the only way he would eat them. She'd never asked why. Maybe it was an Army thing?

Perhaps he would tell her someday.

Steve slung the towel over his hips as he stepped out of the shower. He had to hurry across the hall to his bedroom; the air felt just as cold as the shower he'd just taken. Bucky would no doubt find Steve's current situation hilarious. How had things gotten so twisted around? Not that he was complaining, exactly, but he hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly. Steve wanted to tell her the truth, give her a chance to reacclimate to the world before they tried their hands at a real relationship.

This was his fault, of course. He should have slept in the living room.

Perhaps this was better. Lay all their cards on the table and see what happened. She certainly didn't seem repulsed by the idea of being with him. That was good, right?

Steve rummaged for some clothes, finding a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. At least Nat had chosen one of his button down shirts to steal. _Stop thinking about her in your clothes, Rogers,_ he scolded himself. _Now is not the time._

And yet, he couldn't get the image out of his head. He was drawn to her, like some kind of siren. He was getting another chance to get this right; he wasn't going to waste it.

Steve was toweling off his hair when his phone rang. He dived across the bed to answer it. "Rogers."

"Hey Steve."

"Hey Buck. There an emergency?" He couldn't think of another reason for Bucky to be calling.

"No, no, everything's quiet. Sam and I have things covered."

"So, what then?"

"Come on, Steve! I need an update! How are things with Romanoff?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You called me to gossip? Seriously?"

"Hey man, I'm just looking out for you," Bucky defended himself. "You and I both know your track record with women stinks."

"We are not having this conversation."

"Have you kissed her yet? You gotta at least give me that!"

"Goodbye, Bucky."

Steve could practically hear his friend's grin. "Sam and I are rooting for ya, buddy!" Bucky yelled as Steve went to disconnect the call. That was just great. He was going to have a serious conversation with Bucky when he saw him again. Bucky and Sam would never let him here the end of it otherwise.

Steve smiled to himself as he headed back toward the kitchen. There were worst things, he supposed. It was good, knowing his friends were rooting for him to be happy. He hadn't had that for a long time.

"Something smells good," he observed. He frowned slightly as he re-entered the kitchen; Natasha stood over the stove, flipping pancakes. "I was gonna do that."

She glanced over her shoulder, the braid she'd made swishing across her shoulder blades. "I wanted to," she murmured. "You picked things neither of us could screw up too badly, so why not?"

He chuckled. "You know me too well, Romanoff."

"I left some coffee for you. And I made your eggs scrambled."

He was touched she remembered. "Thanks."

His kitchen only had a little table with a couple of chairs, but it was enough. The bacon was a little crisper than Steve liked it and the pancakes weren't very fluffy, but the food didn't matter. Not when he had Natasha beside him. She was much more interesting than food. Neither said much, despite so much needing to be said. They both seemed content to just enjoy the moment, each smiling when they caught the other looking. Nat felt a giddiness bubble in her chest; she'd never experienced anything quite like it. She felt a bit like the teenager she'd never gotten to be, hanging out with her crush.

She really needed to get a grip.

"I'll clean up," Steve said when they finished. "You find something to watch."

"Or maybe it can wait?" she asked hopefully. He'd promised to tell her the truth; she needed to know before she got in any deeper.

Steve watched as she gently curled her fingers around his forearm. She was so tiny compared him, but he knew better than to underestimate her. She was every bit as formidable as he was, but he didn't see the warrior when he looked at her. He saw one of the strongest people he'd ever met, someone deserving of love and happiness. They'd both waited long enough. "Yeah, it can wait." He guided her back to the living room; she surprised him by climbing into his lap. "Nat?"

"I don't think either of us should be alone for this, do you?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Nope." He paused. "Where do you want to start?"

"How did you bring me back? Because it sounded kinda permanent to me. The dying part."

Steve reached up and pulled out her loose braid. "I hate that you had to make that choice, Nat."

"You would have done the same thing in my place. You know you would."

He couldn't deny that. "Doesn't make losing you easier, Nat. I volunteered for the mission, the one to return the stones. I had it all planned out. Put the stones back, then…"

"Find Peggy," she finished. Steve had mentioned it before; she tried to ignore the hurt that twisted in her belly. But how could she be upset? Steve deserved to be happy. If he wanted to be with the love of his life, who was she to stop him? Except…he chose _her._ He'd said so. He'd given up the chance to be with Peggy to bring Natasha back.

He saw the moment she put it all together. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Except…she talked me out of it."

"Wait, _what?"_ That was not what she expected him to say.

"You remind me a lot of her, you know. You never let anything get in your way."

"I'm hoping that's a compliment?"

He smiled. "It is."

"How…I mean, _when_, I guess? When did she talk you out it?"

"You missed this part." He told her all about missing the Tesseract in 2012, Loki getting away, he and Tony going back to 1970. He left nothing out, including seeing Peggy again. "When I took the Space Stone back there, I, uh, ran into Peggy."

"That's…wow, Steve. She must have been thrilled to see you again." She knew how much Peggy meant to him; she'd watched him mourn her. Seeing her again after so many years…she just didn't see how he could be here with _her_ and not with his beloved Peggy.

"She was. She figured out who I was really quick." When Nat looked puzzled, he explained. "She knew I wasn't the Steve she knew. I, uh, told her I was from the future."

"Doesn't that break some sort of time travel rule?"

Steve shrugged. "Honestly, I've no idea. But I was so exhausted that it didn't seem to matter very much. I told her…well, I told her almost everything. I told her about the ice and waking up in a new century. I told her about the Avengers." He looked into her green eyes. "I told her about you."

"Me?"

He nodded. "I didn't realize how much I'd been holding everything in. I couldn't understand what I was feeling. I just knew that losing you, then Tony…it hurt so much, Nat. I've lost nearly everyone I've ever cared about, but losing you hurt in a way none of the others did."

"Steve, I…"

He placed a finger to her lips. "Let me finish. Peggy saw it right away. She knew what happened."

"What was that?"

"Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, Natasha. I'm sorry I never said it. I wouldn't let myself see what was right in front of me; I was living in the past when my future was right here."

Natasha swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. This wasn't the first time Steve said he loved her, but it still didn't quite feel real. That was when she knew. She knew without a doubt that she loved him, too. It was scary as hell, but if there was one thing she knew about Steve Rogers, it was that he would catch her if she fell. Before she could say anything, Steve kept going.

"I couldn't abandon the people I loved. If there was a way to bring you back, I was going to find it. I didn't care what I had to do, Nat. Because you're everything to me. You have been for a long time."

A tear slipped down her cheek, but it was a happy one. She remembered all those times she'd encouraged Steve to date, to put himself out there. She knew he would make some woman out there very happy. Now, here he was, declaring in no uncertain terms that he wanted _her._ "How did you do it?"

Steve folded her small hand into his larger one. "When I got to Vormir, I demanded they give you back in return for the stone."

"Let me guess, it wasn't that simple?"

"No. To complete the exchange, I had to save a life."

"Sounds like an easy task for Captain America," she teased gently.

He cracked a small smile. "They demanded Loki's life."

She blinked in shock. "Loki? As in Thor's homicidal brother? That Loki?"

He nodded. "Threw me too. It almost didn't sound fair, but then I remembered that Thor said that Loki was in a better place, just before he died. Suddenly saving him didn't feel wrong. If I could help Thor and you, it had to be a good thing."

Nat hadn't known that. Still, it was good that Thor had confided in Steve. She missed him. "So how did you manage it?"

It was complicated, but he told her all of it. It didn't take long for Nat's head to spin; there was so much time travel! How Steve had kept it all straight was a mystery. "Wait, you left him in Norway? Just running around? What if he hurt someone?"

"He hasn't," Steve replied with conviction. "I know it's hard to believe, but Loki's not that same guy, Nat. He helped me put things right. He helped me bring you back. He didn't have to do any of that, but he did. I need to let him know it worked; we wouldn't be here without him."

Nat wasn't sure what to say. Still, if Steve believed in Loki, then that was enough for her. He believed she was worthy of love, right? Maybe the God of Mischief really could change for the better. "I can't believe you did all that for me," she said at last.

"I couldn't lose you, Natasha. Maybe it's selfish, but…"

She shook her head. "I think you've earned a little selfish, soldier."

"Yeah?"

She smiled. "Yeah." She leaned in and brushed her lips over his. He chased her as she pulled back, cupping the back of her head to keep her close. This time he took the lead, parting her lips easily, stroking her tongue with his. She still tasted off coffee and syrup, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet. Nat clutched at his shoulder, holding on so she could adjust her position in his lap. Soon, she was straddling his lap, both hands cupping his now smooth cheeks as he kissed her. She half expected some hesitation or fumbling, but Steve kissed her like a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

It was intoxicating.

Steve rested his hands on her tiny waist, teasing the edges of her borrowed shirt. He could feel her, warm and soft, against him; she was overwhelming his senses. Nat wove her fingers into his hair; irrationally, she wished it were longer. She'd really liked the rugged look he'd carried while they were on the run. It suited him.

"Nat…"

"Shhh," she replied, coaxing another kiss from his lips. "Let's just enjoy it."

"Yes, ma'am." His pants were becoming a bit uncomfortable, but he ignored it. Having Natasha in his arms, kissing him like this, it was everything. She broke the kiss first, her lips sliding down his throat. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her ass; she moaned in response. "Jesus, Nat."

She grinned. "Maybe you should have been careful what you wished for, Rogers," she whispered in his ear.

"How do you know this _isn't_ what I want?" he growled back. Oh, he wanted her. Badly. Yet, he couldn't quite shake his old fashioned instincts. He'd promised himself he'd do this right; shouldn't they at least go on a date first?

Nat shivered; that sound promised very good—very wicked—things. Steve might be from another time, but some things didn't change. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Never." He kissed her deeply then pulled back. "I did make a promise before I brought you back."

"What was it?"

"To do this right. I want to be with you, Natasha. I do." He traced the curve of her cheek; she leaned into his touch. "There is so much I want to experience with you. Like a date."

"A date?"

He found himself blushing. "Well, yeah. Dinner? Maybe a movie? Or just wander the city at night. I don't care as long as I'm with you."

Nat sat back, contemplating him. When had she last gone on a simple date? She couldn't remember. Certainly before Bruce. They never really "dated;" they'd just danced around each other for the better part of two years. It felt odd for Steve to be asking her on a date. After everything they'd been through, it felt…old fashioned. But then again, Steve was an old fashioned kind of guy. It was sweet.

"A date, huh. I could go for that."

"Really?"

"Did you think I would say no? I'm in a pretty compromised position here, Rogers."

"That's not what I meant."

She cupped his cheek. "I know. I'm just teasing, sheesh." She smiled at him. "I think I like this Steve. A lot." The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. If she said she loved him, he wouldn't believe her. Not yet. He still looked half convinced that all of this was a dream. Honestly, she was too. If he wanted to slow things down a bit, she was fine with that. Just not _too_ slow. They'd waited far too long to be together.

Steve leaned in and kissed her again, slowly this time. He could spend hours just kissing her. It was better than anything he could have imagined; she was real, warm and alive. His heart felt full to bursting; it felt like they might really have a shot at being happy. Happiness had eluded him for so long; he almost didn't know what it felt like. He knew now that all he'd done since getting out of the ice was…exist. He'd gone through the motions, saving the world, fighting, always fighting. And while he would continue to fight if called upon, he wanted this too. He wanted Natasha by his side, whether it was fighting bad guys or walking down the street. He wanted to spend his life figuring out what made her tick, help her ease the pain of her past. They'd both lost so much; it was time they enjoyed a win.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for bringing me back," she said sincerely.

"You don't have to thank me, Nat."

"Yes, I do. I know in my heart that I made the right choice," he tried to interrupt, but she carried on, "I did it because I needed to save my family. You and Tony and Clint and Thor and Bruce. Even that damn raccoon." They both chuckled softly. Rocket would no doubt be amused by this latest turn of events. "But I never wanted to die. I wanted to live. You've given me a second chance. So, thank you."

"You're the glue that holds all of us together, Nat. There was no other choice to make." He would forever be grateful to Peggy for knocking some sense into him. The world needed Natasha Romanoff. He needed Natasha Romanoff. He didn't plan on letting her go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Back with another update! This story just keeps expanding; we're looking at Part 4. There are still some storythreads I want to get to, so we'll just keep going! This chapter is where we earn that Mature rating, so beware. Lemon ahead!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Chapter 3**

It turned out getting to go on an actual date was much harder than Natasha expected. For the last two days, they worked on getting her settled. Acquiring groceries and her own keycard was easy enough, but Nat had nothing of her own, aside from the clothes Pepper let her borrow. And Steve's, of course. When he first suggested taking her shopping, she shot back that she was perfectly comfortable, just as she was. Perfectly comfortable in Steve's oversized shirt. She hadn't missed his reaction to her dressed in his clothes. If it had been anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes at the cheese, but this was Steve. The way he looked at her was new and exciting; she was just selfish enough to encourage it.

Had he always looked at her like that? Looking back, she wasn't sure. Perhaps Steve himself wasn't sure. She had to constantly remind herself that he was a neophyte in this department, despite how old he was. It was kinda sweet actually. Sweet, exciting and ultimately frustrating.

Things were different now. The latent attraction that had always been there flared to life when they least expected it. Making dinner or debating what show to watch on TV or Nat teasing him about his taste in music or books; the situation didn't matter. One moment they could be having an innocent conversation and the next they were making out passionately. Steve always broke things off before they could get too far; he was being stubborn about taking her on a date first. Which she thought was slightly ridiculous considering they were sharing his bed every night. She could tell it was important to him though, so she didn't complain.

Before they could go on this proposed date, she needed to acquire some things of her own. Namely, clothes. Nat had never considered herself a clotheshorse or anything like that. She was a spy; it never seemed that important, unless it was for a mission. However, all her belongings had been at the compound, which was now a smoking pile of rubble. She needed new things.

Steve offered to go with her, but she declined at the last minute. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him—she did—but she kinda needed to talk to someone about everything that was happening. Steve being in love with her, saving Loki to bring her back, the Peggy of it all…she needed a bit of time to process. The last few days were an odd combination of idyllic and intense; she started to see the wisdom in waiting. Perhaps taking a few hours for herself would help her get some perspective. She very much wanted to be with Steve, but it was harder to shake her own doubts about herself. She loved him too much to hurt him.

Pepper had hooked her up with a new phone, fully programmed with the remaining Avengers' contacts. Nat dismissed calling Clint right away; she wasn't ready for his gloating. She knew without a doubt that he would he happy for her—she could practically hear him saying, "I told you so." The thought made her smile. But she needed another perspective on all this. She flipped through the list of numbers then dialed.

"Hey Nat," Laura said, sounding slightly out of breath. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, the kids are just helping Morgan with her latest invention. Something about a potato gun? I don't know."

Nat smiled to herself. "I thought you guys would have headed back to the farm by now."

"We were, but Clint wanted to check on the kid. The one from Queens, I think?"

"Peter," Natasha confirmed. She knew losing Peter Parker weighed Tony down for five years. He blamed himself, which wasn't right. They all knew the risks of the superhero life, even an overeager teenager from Queens.

"Yeah, that's the one. I only met him briefly at the funeral."

"From what Tony said, he's a good kid. Really smart. I think his aunt is his only family."

"Well, we both know he's got a bit more family now," Laura replied, chucking to herself. She loved Clint; she knew Clint loved her and the kids more than anything. But she also knew that these people, his brother and sister Avengers, were family too. The more the merrier, as far as she was concerned.

Nat smiled, remembering what Steve had said. They were a family, all of them. She was so glad to have them back. "Speaking of, do you have a few hours? Turns out having a battle on your doorstep does terrible things to your wardrobe."

Laura could tell there was something Nat wasn't telling her, even over the phone. "Let me see if Wanda can watch the kids. I think she could use the distraction." The young woman was still grieving the loss of Vision. Laura had never met him, but Clint filled her in. It was a tragedy they couldn't save everyone.

Nat listened to the muffled sound of voices as she walked down the Brooklyn street. Why hadn't she come to visit Steve before? He lived in a cute little neighborhood; why had he chosen it? Did it remind him of the Brooklyn he knew? She had to admit she was curious. Steve didn't share much of his past; she just assumed it was painful. She couldn't imagine what it had been like for him to wake up and find out nearly everyone he'd loved was dead. All except Peggy.

Peggy. Nat was still trying to wrap her brain around Peggy's role in bringing her back. She knew without a doubt that Peggy loved Steve. Speaking from personal experience, Natasha knew how easy it was to fall in love with Steve Rogers. He was everything that was good about the world, kind, honest, loyal. Nat didn't think she'd ever met someone as genuinely _good_ as Steve. She used to tease him about it; hell, she still did. But what she'd never really told him was how much she admired him. It didn't quite make sense that someone like him could love someone like her. Or how someone who loved him could let him go to be with someone else.

Peggy had had that chance. And she sent him back to her; she asked him to do whatever it took to bring Natasha back. Why? It was a remarkable sacrifice. How could Natasha even compete with that?

"Nat? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. What?"

"I said that I can be in the city in an hour. Is that okay?"

"Sure." They arranged to meet the first deli that Nat pulled up via a Google search. It wasn't far from where she was; she could walk there. Maybe hanging out with Laura would clear her head. She needed some advice. She was only going to get one shot at this relationship thing; she did not want to screw it up.

* * *

Steve gathered up the discarded clothes, trying not to think about the lady who'd recently been wearing them. Her scent still lingered in his shirt. Of course, his enhanced senses meant he couldn't get away from it. She smelled of citrus and vanilla mingled with his shower gel. They'd bought her some toiletries of her own, but part of him secretly hoped she kept using his.

He was still a bit stunned that they'd gotten to this point. He'd actually told Natasha how he felt. He never realized how _good_ it would feel; he'd never forget the look on her face. She'd been surprised, but the joy and hope he'd seen in her luminous green eyes was perfect. His fingers itched for his sketch pad; he wanted to capture it forever. It had been so long since he'd been inspired to draw; he should have known she could draw that out in him. As soon as he got these clothes into the wash, he'd dig out his pad and pencils.

He missed her. He knew she wouldn't be out long, but he still missed her. Over the last couple of days, he'd gotten used to having her in his space. Literally. It was both a blessing and a curse. He loved having her around; sharing meals, watching TV, engaging in good natured debates, it was everything he'd imagined. They already knew each other so well, having spent thousands of hours in each other's company. The only thing that was different was their physical proximity. He didn't have to keep his distance anymore. He didn't have to snatch glances when he thought she wasn't looking. He didn't have to stop himself from reaching out. Since his apartment was sparsely furnished, she spent much of her time in his lap, watching TV or just talking. His favorite thing in the world was to simply hold her while they looked out over the Brooklyn skyline as the sunset.

Yet he felt the undercurrent. There was an electricity in the air around them, crackling and snapping to life when he least expected it. At first, he chalked it up to his…lack of experience? Was that the right word? Steve didn't consider himself a prude—he'd been in the Army, for God's sake—but he _did_ consider himself a gentleman. He really did want to go on a date with Nat. Just one simple date before things changed irrevocably.

But she didn't make it easy for him.

Steve had seen her flirt before; he'd seen her try to coax a serious connection into being with Bruce. He knew she could be genuine; he could see that she cared deeply for him, in a way that went beyond friendship. He could feel it when she touched him. He wasn't discouraged that she hadn't put her feelings into words, whatever they were. Giving your emotions a voice was scary as hell. He understood that better than most. He was confident that she'd tell him when she was ready. But that didn't stop her from _showing_ him how she felt. He'd discovered that she was a very tactile person; it had been a bit surprising at first. She wasn't shy about kissing him or allowing him to hold her. It hit him like a lightening bolt, the second night they spent in his bed.

She was as lonely as he was.

They had friends, family they loved dearly, but it wasn't the same as having _your_ person. Tony had Pepper; Clint had Laura. Even Scott had Hope. Steve had wanted that with Peggy for so long; he'd mourned the loss of her so deeply that he missed what was right in front of him, an amazing partner that longed for the same things he did. A home. Love. Family.

Bucky had been right all along. If there was anyone in the world who could understand him, it was Natasha Romanoff.

Steve smiled to himself as he dumped the dirty clothes into the washing machine and set the timer. He couldn't wait for Nat to get home; he was already planning the evening in his head. Was tonight too soon for their first date? Steve suspected Nat didn't need anything elaborate; underneath the aloof spy was a woman of fairly simple taste. Oh, she could dress to impress when she wanted to. Some of the missions they'd gone on proved that. He could still see her in a slinky silk gown of deep green, clinging to her curves as she worked the room at a party they'd infiltrated in Bosnia. Nat could pull off such things with ease, but Steve knew that was her training shining through. The Red Room had taught her to be a chameleon, to be whatever the mission called for. There was a reason her call sign was the Black Widow. He'd seen her work. As sexy as she was, he would be just as happy hanging out on the roof of his apartment, just looking up at the stars. Just being around her made him happy.

That said, if she wanted to wear a nice dress he wasn't going to complain.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. It was a unique kind of torment, having her so close but not giving in to his desire for her. He knew she felt it too; more than once they'd tumbled into a wall or a piece of furniture, making out until neither could breathe or stand up straight. She was intoxicating, far more than any alcohol Steve had ever had (which he couldn't get drunk from anyway). For the past several nights, they'd shared his bed, holding each other as they slept. Each time Steve had to extricate himself from the bed in the wee hours, painfully aware of his attraction to her.

He knew he was being silly. This was the twenty first century, for crying out loud. It wasn't like Nat was some stranger. She was his friend, his partner; he _loved_ her. Yet he couldn't change who he was. He was from a different time. He wanted to take her out; he wanted to do romantic couple-y things with her. He wanted to show her that he was in this for the long haul.

He just wasn't sure how long he could resist her.

Then again, maybe he didn't have to. Surely there had to be some sort of compromise. Perhaps he was just being an old fuddy duddy.

Steve was in the middle of folding some towels when he heard the buzzer for the front door. Nat had her own keycard, so why was it going off? Concerned, he jogged over to the intercom. "Yes?"

"Steve, it's us," came Bucky's slightly tinny voice. "Buzz us in."

Steve groaned inwardly. What were Sam and Bucky doing here? It wasn't that he didn't want to see them; he just wasn't sure when Nat would be home. And he wasn't really in the mood for Bucky's "advice." Still, he pressed the button that let them into the building. A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on his door. As predicted, Bucky and Sam were on the other side of the door. "Hey guys," Steve said as he stepped aside to let them in.

"Expecting someone else?" Sam said slyly, crossing the threshold.

"Nat's out shopping for some new clothes; she's got her own key."

"Wow, you're not wasting any time, Cap."

Steve blinked. "It's not like that," he protested.

"Sam's only teasing," Bucky said, looking around the apartment. "I like this place, Steve."

"Thanks."

"Sam, we'll need to get him a couch or something. This is unacceptable." Bucky pointed to the two leather chairs and grinned.

"I do not need a couch, Buck," Steve groused. "We're just fine."

"Maybe we should allow Nat to decide."

Steve rolled his eyes. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, does this visit have a point?"

"Come on, Steve," Sam said, stepping between the two best friends. He wasn't sure why Bucky was setting his friend off so much. Well, he did, because he often found Bucky annoying as hell. Yet, he was pretty sure he'd call him a friend now. He wasn't that bad when he wasn't trying to kill everyone. "We're just happy to see you happy, man."

"Thanks, Sam."

Bucky plopped himself down in the chair Nat had fallen sleep in the first night. "So…have you gotten past first base yet?"

"Bucky!" Steve cried indignantly.

"What? It's like Sam said, we just want you to be happy. You and Nat are here all by yourselves. Don't tell me you're not thinking it!"

Steve curled his hands into fists, lest he do something rash. Bucky was his friend. They'd gone on plenty of double dates—or rather attempted double dates—back in the day, as they said these days. Deep down, he knew that Bucky just wanted him to be happy. But something about Bucky teasing him about Nat rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't want to be with Nat just because she was attractive. He loved her. She was smart as hell, funny, fought for the things and people she believed in. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy.

"Leave him alone," Sam said quietly. He was quiet, but firm. He was secretly pleased when Bucky sobered.

"Sorry," Bucky said, his boot clad foot tapping Steve's. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Steve sighed. "I know you didn't, Buck."

Bucky tilted his head, considering his friend. He'd only seen Steve like this once before, during the war. He got very defensive about the woman he loved, not that Bucky blamed him. Steve wasn't a casual fling kind of guy. Bucky had a different lady on his arm every night; Steve was the exact opposite. Natasha clearly meant a great deal to Steve; Bucky truly was happy for him. "How is she?"

"Still adjusting. She wasn't gone long, but things are different, you know?"

"Not long for us," Sam commented; he'd perched himself on Steve's lone coffee table. "We don't know how long it was for her."

Steve hadn't considered that. "She hasn't really talked about it, dying, I mean." A muscle in his jaw twitched; he could still hear Clint's anguished scream as Nat plummeted to her death. He doubted he'd ever forget it.

"Yeah, space magic doesn't really come with a manual," Bucky quipped.

"Speaking of, we need to call Thor. He'll want to know that she's back."

"He needs to know about Loki too," Bucky said.

Sam's brow furrowed. "Wait, did you say _Loki?_ Am I missing something here?"

Steve shared a look with Bucky. So far Bucky and Nat were the only ones who knew the truth. He didn't mean for it to be a secret per se; now that Nat knew, there was no reason to hide. "Yeah, Sam." As succinctly as he could, Steve recounted the tale again, leaving out only the more intimate details about Nat. When he finished Sam blew out a whistle.

"That's some story, Cap. Where's Loki now?"

"Still in Norway somewhere. He said he wanted to be close to Thor."

"We'll find him," Bucky volunteered. He didn't want Steve to worry about any of this. He had Nat to worry about.

"You sure, Buck? He's my responsibility." While his gut told him that Loki had kept his word, he didn't want to drag Bucky and Sam into anything.

"We got this. You wine and dine your girl, buddy. When we find him, we'll call the Big Guy."

"I'm sure Nat will want to talk to him too." Losing Nat hit Thor harder than Steve would have expected. It just reminded him how much he'd failed Thor as friend. Hopefully, getting both Nat and Loki back would bring Thor home for a little while. Rocket would probably he happy too, or, as happy as Rocket ever was.

"Now that that's settled, is it alright to ask where you're taking Nat on this date?"

Steve shook his head; Bucky just wasn't going to give up. "I'm honestly not sure. Beyond dinner, I'm a bit stumped." He thought about taking her dancing, but A) he still didn't know how to dance and B) Nat wasn't Peggy. He didn't want to do things with her simply because he'd been deprived of experiencing them with Peggy. Nat was her own person; he loved her for who she was.

"Movie?" Sam suggested.

"Too cliché," Bucky countered. "For a first date, I'd suggest sticking to the basics. Dinner is good. How about heading into the city?"

Steve considered that. He hadn't given Manhattan much thought. There were plenty of nice places in Brooklyn, but Manhattan held some history for them. He got out his phone and together, the three of them started looking for a nice place for dinner. Steve was grateful for their help; he didn't want to admit how nervous he was about this date. He wanted it to be special; Natasha deserved that.

* * *

Laura looked a bit flustered as she got out of the cab. Nat waved to her from her window seat; her friend smiled. A waiter appeared almost the moment Laura joined Nat at the table, taking her drink order. "What's up?" Laura asked once he was gone.

Nat shrugged. "Can't I just see my friend?"

"Of course, you can, Nat. But something's up, I can see it on your face. Is it Steve?"

Nat looked up from her sandwich, blinking in surprise. Was she that easy to read? She was losing her touch. "Steve's great. It was really nice of him to give me a place to stay."

Laura arched a brow. "Is that all?"

Nat's frowned knowingly. "Clint said something, didn't he?"

"Don't be angry with him. He just wants you to be happy, Natasha. We both do."

Nat felt her ire melt away. Laura was like the sister she'd never had. And wasn't this why she'd asked her to come? To help her talk through things? "Alright, fine. Yes, there's something going on between me and Steve. But please don't tell Clint yet, okay?"

Laura nodded solemnly. "Of course. But why?"

Nat chuckled dryly. "Do you want to listen to him gloat for the next month?"

Laura laughed. "Good point." The waiter brought back her drink; they paused long enough for her to order some food. "So…is this a _good_ thing? You and Steve. I don't know him that well, but Clint's always spoken highly of him."

Nat munched on a fry. "I want it to be good," she admitted finally. "I really, really do."

"That's great! Nat, I'm so happy for you!"

"Woah, slow your roll, Maid Marian. We haven't even gone on a date yet." It was a joke between them, especially after Clint insisted he and Laura dress up as Robin Hood and Maid Marian for Halloween one year. Nat hadn't used the nickname in a long time.

Laura grinned. "But you're smitten! I can see it in your eyes. You like him!" And why wouldn't she? Even Laura could admit that Steve Rogers was very attractive. Handsome, kind, noble, just a good person. He was everything Laura thought Nat deserved.

_I'm way further down the rabbit hole than that,_ Nat thought but didn't say. It felt like putting her feelings into words would rip away the last vestiges of the fearsome Black Widow and leave only Natasha in her wake. Could Steve love her then? How could he love her when she wasn't sure who Natasha Romanoff was without her many masks?

"I do like him," she said finally. "A lot." There, that wasn't so hard. "He said he loves me, that he has for a while."

"Is that why he brought you back?"

Nat nodded. There was so much more to it; she found that she needed to tell someone. She needed to work through the enormity of what Steve Rogers did for her. Steve had told her that Bucky knew already; surely it would be okay to tell Laura? Nat decided not to overthink it; she just let the story come out over lunch. Laura was a good listener; she was crying when Nat finished. "Sorry," she mumbled, handing her friend a napkin.

"Don't be. I'm just so glad to have you back, Nat. You deserve this second chance, more than anyone I know."

"I just wish I was," Nat whispered.

Laura covered Nat's hand with her own. "Don't you dare look down on yourself, Natasha. You've got a good heart; I saw it the moment I met you. You're Clint's best friend, our kids adore you. You've got so many people who love and care for you. Your past doesn't matter, not anymore." While Laura was glad to have her husband back, she knew something haunted him. He had trouble talking about it, but she knew him well enough to know he'd gone to a very dark place during the five years she and the kids had been gone. Natasha saved him from that, just like Clint had saved her all those years ago. She would forever be grateful to the woman across from her; she brought her husband back.

A lone tear slid down Nat's cheek. She desperately wanted to believe in what Laura was saying. "It's all I wanted. To wipe the red from my ledger. I hurt so many people, Laura. You don't know." Clint did. Steve did. He never said so, but she suspected he'd read her file. She wasn't offended; she'd done the same. Steve knew all the terrible things she'd done, and he loved her anyway. He believed in her.

"It doesn't matter," Laura said. "I know the woman in front of me. I know exactly who you are, Nat. I'm proud to call you my friend."

The hope that flared in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. But she kept it together. Nat wanted to believe so badly. "You don't think I'm cheating?"

Laura looked confused. "Cheating? How?"

"I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to make up for my past. At least I thought I was." With HYDRA infiltrating the agency, her entire worldview had been turned upside down. Steve helped her navigate through that emotional minefield without even realizing he was doing it. That was the first time she really _saw_ Steve, beyond the good guy Captain America façade. Her Steve was still good, but he was also human. Looking back at it now, she suspected that was when she really fell for him. But her own issues and the sense of loss that hung over him kept them apart, sending her toward Bruce instead, a person who believed he was a monster, the exact same way Nat felt about herself. "Then I had the Avengers. Going around, helping people, saving the world," she laughed dryly. "I thought I'd finally found my purpose, you know?"

"Sounds a bit lonely, Nat."

She shrugged. "I never let myself dream about more. I tried, once, but…" Whatever she felt for Bruce fizzled before it could get off the ground. She'd betrayed him, forcing him to become the Hulk during the Battle of Sokovia. She didn't blame him for running away. It hurt, but she moved on.

"Now you're scared to try again?"

"More like scared I don't deserve to try."

"Nat, listen to me. What's past is past. You can't undo it. The only thing you can change is _now._ As far as I'm concerned, you've done more than enough. If you truly weren't worthy of a second chance, would the universe have allowed Steve to bring you back?"

She hadn't considered that. She wasn't religious or have any strong beliefs in higher powers and such. Natasha believed in what she could see and feel. The feelings she had for Steve were real. No matter what, he always saw the best in her. They'd both lost so much; was it wrong of her to want something for herself?

"I can see what you're thinking, Nat." She paused, thinking. "Tell me, do you believe Steve cares for you?"

She nodded without hesitation. Steve didn't play games with people; he didn't lie. Moreover, she _knew_ him. When he said he loved her, he meant it. "I know he does."

"Then what's the problem? You both deserve a chance to be happy. You should take it."

Nat chewed on her lip. She wanted this so badly. Every time she allowed herself to want something, it blew up in her face. _Not this time,_ she promised herself. She would fight for this, just like she fought for everything else. "Thanks, Laura. I guess I just needed to hear someone else say that."

"Anytime. Now how about we go drum up a new wardrobe for you, huh?"

* * *

Nat set three bags down on the ground, freeing up her hand to find her keycard. She was just about to use it when the door opened.

"Oh, sorry," Sam Wilson said, stepping back in surprise. "Need some help?"

Nat raised a curious brow at Sam being in Steve's apartment, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know. "Um, yeah. That would be great." She'd purchased far more than she expected; it turned out Laura was an enabler. "Thanks, Sam," she added as he took several bags from her. She followed him into the apartment, where she found Steve and…Bucky? That was unexpected. "Uh, hi." She still wasn't quite sure what to make of the infamous Winter Soldier. She knew that wasn't who Bucky was now, but she had to admit that he still freaked her out. Just a little. Still, he was Steve's best friend; she wanted to get to know him.

"Hey Nat," Bucky said easily. He couldn't suppress his grin. He was just so damn happy for Steve. The guy deserved this, more than anyone Bucky had ever met. "We were just leaving."

"You don't have to," she said quickly. "At least not on my account."

"We did what we came to do. But we'll hang out soon?" Bucky phrased it like a question; he didn't want to presume. He wasn't even sure how Natasha felt about him; he wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't at least a little bit wary. Until her return from the dead, all their interactions involved fighting.

Nat offered him a warm smile. He really was a good friend. No wonder Steve went to hell and back for him. "I'd like that, uh…"

"You can call me Bucky," he said, hoping to put her at ease. Bucky used to be good at that.

"Bucky." Behind him, Nat could see Steve, looking oddly nervous. Seeing his girl and his best friend interact had to weird for him, especially given their history. "Now unless you two want to help me unpack these bags…" she trailed off with a grin.

"And that is our cue to split," Sam quipped, setting the bags he'd taken from her onto the coffee table. "See ya, Steve, Nat." He nodded to Steve but hugged Nat on his way out. Nat hugged him back, still getting used to having him back. She'd missed him during the five years after the Snap. She hoped they got to spend some time together soon.

Bucky waved goodbye before he shut the door, leaving Nat and Steve alone. Steve had to resist the urge to roll his eyes; Bucky gave him a big thumbs up before slipping out of the door. The man was incorrigible, even after all these years. But it was one of the reasons Steve loved him. Bucky had always been his brother in every way that mattered.

"Looks like you've been busy," he commented, nodding toward the bags.

"Laura came down from the cabin; she helped pick all this stuff out."

"Weren't they supposed to head home?"

"I thought so too, but Clint wanted to check on Peter."

"Peter? Oh, Queens. Right."

"Queens?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah. I'm from Brooklyn, he's from Queens. Friendly borough rivalry."

Nat laughed. "You New Yorkers."

"Yeah, we're just terrible." He did something he'd always wanted to do; he closed the gap between them and leaned down to kiss her. Unexpected but definitely welcome. She hummed happily, resting her hands on his chest. Steve slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. She fit perfectly against him; he'd missed her more than he wanted to admit, lest he scare her with the force of his feelings.

Steve was warm and solid, his lips soft and sweet. Kissing him was rapidly becoming addicting. She felt a bit lightheaded when they broke for air; her lips tingled. "That's quite a welcome, soldier."

Steve blushed. "Too much?"

She shook her head. "I missed you too."

"That sounds nice."

"You're such a sap, Rogers."

"Are you complaining, Agent Romanoff?"

"Nope." No, she could definitely get used to this. To prove it, she stood up on her toes and kissed him again, coaxing him to open for her. He moaned softly as she slid her tongue inside; she wound her fingers into his short hair. Steve felt a frisson of desire settle at the base of his spine; he abruptly picked her up and stumbled back toward the nearest chair. It tilted precariously for a moment before ultimately righting itself with a dull thud. A giggle tumbled from her lips; in a moment they were both laughing.

Happiness like Steve had never experienced blossomed in his chest. He laughed until his cheeks hurt, Natasha settled firmly in his lap. She laughed into his neck, overcome with giggles. She couldn't recall the last time she'd felt like this. She didn't think she'd ever felt like this.

Steve hugged her close, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "Sorry about that," he murmured.

Nat rolled her eyes. "Only you would apologize for kissing your girlfriend."

"If I recall, you kissed me, Romanoff." Then he blinked in surprise, realizing what she'd said. "Girlfriend?"

Natasha bit her lip. "Sorry, I didn't think…"

"No, no. I just didn't expect it. I like the sound of it." He smiled hopefully, fully aware that things were moving very fast. Objectively, he knew that, but it didn't feel like that. They'd known each other for years; this felt surprisingly natural.

"Well, someone keeps promising to take me on a date," she replied with a knowing grin. "A girl only has so much patience, you know."

"Is that so?" Steve shot back. "Well, I guess this guy should get a move on then."

"He really should." Nat pressed a kiss to his neck, peppering his skin with kisses until she found the spot that made him shiver under her. Steve ran his hands over her lithe form, memorizing her curves. Heat spread from wherever she touched him, settling in his groin. His fingers slid under her sweater, caressing her bare skin. She shivered in his arms, her lips sliding over his jaw. "Steve…"

As much as he wanted to see where all this would lead, he'd made himself a promise. He'd vowed to do this right. "Nat," he breathed just before she covered his mouth with hers. Her kiss was filled with passion and longing, longing for _him._ He felt it too; they'd both been alone for far too long.

"Nat," he tried again. _"Nat."_

"Something wrong?"

"I thought you wanted to go on a date."

"_You_ wanted to go on a date," she corrected. "I'm good right here."

Steve gently eased her back, so she was perched more comfortably in his lap. "Nat, if you don't want this..."

She frowned. "Are we talking about the same thing? Because I'm confused."

Steve placed his palm against hers, threading their fingers together. The look on his face made Nat's heart skip a beat. She really did adore him. If only she could find her words. "I just want to do this right. For both of us."

"Steve, I don't think there's a wrong way."

He smiled. "Indulge me for one evening? I've been waiting a long time to take my girl out."

"Your girl, huh? I like that." She squeezed his hand, then she tenderly kissed the corner of his lips. "Where are we going?"

"I thought we'd start with dinner. Nothing overly fancy."

"Sounds promising so far."

"That's good because the rest is a surprise." He wanted to keep things simple; they didn't need any added pressure. The change in their relationship was few and fragile; there was no reason to rush anything.

"Good thing I love surprises."

"Almost like I know you."

She smiled; Steve knew her better than almost anyone. She placed another tender kiss to his lips then stood. "Guess I better go get ready then."

"See you soon." He watched her flick through her many bags until she settled on one. Nat disappeared into the lone bathroom, throwing him a grin before she closed the door. Steve gathered the rest of the bags and took them into the bedroom. He thought about unpacking them for her but changed his mind. He didn't want her to think he was snooping. Instead, he set to work getting himself presentable. He'd already showered and shaved; all he needed to do was change his clothes. The place he was taking Natasha wasn't the Ritz Carleton or anything like that, but it was nice. He found his best suit in the back of the closet; this was the first happy occasion he had to wear it.

He wondered what Tony would say if he could see him now. Make some joke no doubt. It was Tony's way. But deep down, he knew Tony would be happy for them. Peggy too. _Thanks, Peg,_ he thought as he knotted his tie. _You were right._

When Nat exited the bathroom, she took several steady breaths before heading for the living room. She hadn't done this in a very long time, not since that disastrous evening back at Avengers tower. This was so much more important than anything she'd done before; her whole future was in front of her. Could she reach out and take it?

There was only one way to find out.

Steve turned just as she appeared from the darkened hallway. He swallowed heavily, unable to stop his eyes from drifting up and down her body. A strapless silver gown hugged her curves; it shimmered, even in the bad light of his apartment. For the first time, he noticed that blonde ends of her hair had been trimmed away, leaving only her natural red, now curled in a style that drew attention to her beautiful face.

Nat smirked at the gobsmacked look on his face. "Hey soldier."

Steve wet his lips instinctively. "Hey. You look…gorgeous, Natasha."

She surprised herself by blushing. Steve had seen her in gowns like this before, on missions. But he'd never looked at her like _that._ "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Indeed, Steve looked positively scrumptious in his suit; it was tailored perfectly to fit his broad frame.

Steve gallantly offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Nat picked up her clutch. "Lead on, Captain."

The tension in the car was new. Not distant or oppressive or uncomfortable. Just new. Steve kept his hand on the gearshift; Nat reached over and linked her fingers with his. Every red light he would look over and smile at her; she couldn't stop herself from smiling back. They were really doing this. They were going on a date. Together. That same giddy feeling that blossomed in her chest earlier was back; her earlier fears felt silly now. It was hard to not revel in the way Steve looked at her.

The drive was longer than Nat expected; they were heading into the city. Steve had promised her that the place they were going to wasn't overly fancy, but she was starting to wonder. They pulled up in front of a non-descript warehouse; a valet opened the door for her, allowing her to step out. Steve handed over the keys before joining her on the curb.

"Steve, what is this place?"

"Just a little hole in the wall. I promised nothing fancy, right?"

"Just so long as I'm not overdressed," she quipped.

"You're perfect." They took the elevator up to the restaurant Bucky had found; he hoped Nat liked it. It was supposed to offer some spectacular views of the city. New York wasn't the city it once was. At least, not yet. Now that they'd brought everyone back; it was only a matter of time before the City That Never Sleeps was back to its old glory. Of course, that meant that other things might be sacrificed. Like the whales he'd seen. Perhaps this was the world's second chance. A chance to get things right.

Just like he and Nat.

"Table for two, under the name Rogers," Steve said when they reached the host.

"Rogers. Yes, sir. Right this way." Nat slipped her hand into his as they followed the host to their table. This was unlike any restaurant Nat had ever seen. The building was a converted warehouse; they were on the top floor. Eclectic art covered the brick walls; lightbulbs hung from wires, giving the place an ethereal glow. There was a piano in one corner; soft music filled the room.

"Where did you find this place?" Nat asked as Steve pulled out her chair for her.

Steve blushed. "Actually, I didn't. Or, more accurately, I had help."

"Let me guess, the Dynamic Duo?"

Steve laughed. "Do not let them here you say that."

"Why not? You enjoy their sniping as much as I do."

Steve chuckled. "That's one word for it." Bucky and Sam hadn't gotten off on the best foot, for obvious reasons. Perhaps now that Bucky was better, they could become real friends. Steve loved them both like brothers; they were as much a part of his family as Nat. Still, he had to ask. "Do you…like it?"

"This place?" She grinned. "Yeah, it'll do." Truthfully, the place didn't matter as much as the company. Steve kept fiddling with the menu, like he was nervous. "Nervous?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Just a little." She touched his hand. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I am too."

Steve's face brightened. "Yeah?"

"I've never been good at this. Let's just say it wasn't…encouraged."

"I think you're doing just fine so far."

She smiled. "Well, the night is still young."

"So it is." He ordered them some wine; they spent the next few minutes perusing the menu. Now that they were actually on the longed for date, neither found they were very hungry. But they both ordered anyway. "Now what?"

"Well, I'm not an expert, but I think this is when couples get to know each other."

Steve chuckled. "That's gonna be a bit hard for us."

Nat shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." She looked out the window; the city was still dimmer than it had been a few years ago. She wondered how others were coping with their sudden reappearance. Five years had passed. A lot could change in five years.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh." She flushed. "It's not a big deal."

"Sure it is. You looked…far away."

"I was just thinking about everything that's happened. All those people we brought back, after _five years._ It's a big adjustment."

Steve frowned. "Do you think we didn't do the right thing?"

"No, it's not that. I know we did the right thing." This was what she'd sacrificed herself for. To give everyone a second chance. "Isn't that what life's about? Second chances?"

"Nat, you deserve a second chance as much as anyone."

"Laura said the same thing."

Steve tilted his head curiously. "Is that why you didn't want me to go with you this morning?"

"Not so much didn't want, as I needed time to think. I don't want to screw this up, you know?"

"I think I understand perfectly." He chuckled. "We're both pretty new at this dating thing. Which is pretty ironic considering how much you pushed me to put myself out there."

Nat smiled, remembering. "Maybe things worked out exactly the way they were supposed to."

"I like to think so." Their food arrived, interrupting the moment. It was a welcome distraction from their current train of conversation. It was a stark reminder that neither of them was very good at this. Their lives until now didn't leave much room for a personal life. The rare times either of them had attempted it, things had done horribly wrong. Now, it felt like the stars might be aligning in their favor. Steve fervently hoped so.

Slowly, they both started to relax. They'd enjoyed hundreds of meals together; take away the fancy clothes and they could have been back at the compound, decompressing from a long day of training. Well, almost the same. Steve couldn't help but let his eyes wander, lingering on her face, smiling to himself every time he coaxed a laugh from her. Her green eyes sparked in the soft light; she looked like she was enjoying herself.

"How's yours?" Nat asked.

"Huh?"

She didn't bother to smother her smirk. She kinda liked the dreamy look on his face. No one had ever looked at her quite like that before. "I asked how your food was, old man."

He chuckled, caught. "It's good. Yours?"

"Pretty good. Wanna try it?"

He quirked a brow; there was something about the mirth in her eyes that intrigued him. "Sure." He started to reach across with his fork to take a bite of her pasta, but she stopped him. Instead, she picked some up onto her own fork and offered it to him. Steve had to lean across the table, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he opened his mouth. He didn't hide anything from her as he took the bite from her, letting her see just how much he was enjoying this. The food actually was pretty good, but it wasn't nearly as stimulating as her. "You were right. Try mine?"

Nat returned his knowing grin. "Sure." She waited with baited breath as Steve scooped up a healthy bite of his own entrée and held it out. Natasha braced her hands on the table as she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around his fork. Steve had to suppress a shudder as she sucked the food off and licked her lips. Why was this so much sexier when she did it? Heat pooled in his groin; she was teasing him on purpose!

"Problem, Rogers?" she said innocently.

"You enjoy playing with fire, Romanoff?"

"What? I thought we were having dinner?"

If she wanted to play, then he was going to drag this out. Two could play her little game. "I think it's time for dessert."

_Finally,_ Nat thought as she pushed away her plate. They'd gotten past the nerves as they ate; it almost felt like old times. Except in the old days, she never allowed herself to really _look_ at him. Like _really look._ Steve's movements were efficient and compact, yet graceful. She loved the way his eyes lit up as he talked about the most mundane things. Had he enjoyed life this much before? She wasn't sure. It made her slightly ashamed that she couldn't remember. While she knew that Steve found some things to admire in the twenty first century, he'd never seemed very happy. Content, maybe. But not happy. Definitely nothing like this. There was a light in his pretty blue eyes she'd never seen before. It warmed her heart that she could be the reason for it.

Imagine her surprise when Steve ordered them a _real_ dessert and not the one she'd been expecting. "Oh."

Steve grinned. "Expecting something else, Nat?" He offered her the second spoon the waiter brought, a teasing look in his eyes.

"Nope." She accepted the spoon and dove into towering sundae. The flavors burst on her tongue, but it was nothing compared to the challenge she saw in his eyes. He was enjoying this! She'd find a way to make him pay for it…later.

Steve hadn't realized that sharing a treat like this could be so…arousing. They reveled in the treat slowly, teasing each other, feeding each other occasionally. The ice cream was cold, but neither of them felt it. All that mattered was the way they were looking at each other.

Once dessert was devoured, Steve laid some cash out on the table. "Wanna get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask." This was never going to be a simple date for them. Nothing between them had ever been _simple._ And it never would be again if Nat had anything to say about it. She'd waited a long time to find a measure of happiness. So had Steve. Sure, it might seem fast to some, but not to them. At least Nat hoped not.

Any doubt she had evaporated the moment the elevator doors closed. Steve pressed her against the wall, crashing his lips to hers. A low moan caught in her throat as she sank her fingers into his hair. Steve growled as she tugged, need sliding down his spine. He pressed his hips forward, pinning her. Nat thrust back boldly, more than ready for him. "Steve," she panted, arching her neck.

"You're a tease, you know that?" he murmured.

"Again, you're the one who wanted to go on a date," she said, dragging his mouth back to hers.

"What can I say?" he grinned. "Is it wrong to want to show my girl a good time?"

"I can think of a way to show your girl a better time," she whispered in his ear. She bit down gently on his ear, earning her a satisfying growl. "Unless you're still trying to be a boy scout?"

Steve blinked; he couldn't tell if she actually remembered that long ago (for her, not him) conversation or if she was indulging in typical Natasha sass. Either way, he was more than willing to take her up on her offer. It was time.

* * *

Steve drew her to him the moment the elevator doors closed. The drive back from the restaurant was an entirely new form of torture; HYDRA had nothing on Nat's ability to drive him crazy. She didn't even have to _do_ anything; glancing at her kiss swollen lips at every stoplight was more than enough. He could still taste the wine on her tongue. They'd made out in the elevator, then again in the car before he finally got enough control to actually drive them home. Nat sat beside him, squirming in her seat, trying to breathe steadily. Was she as turned on as he was? Had she been thinking about this as long as he had? His plan to go on a date had seemed like the right choice at the time, but who was he kidding?

The date itself was fun. While it started out a bit awkwardly, it turned into a nice evening. Cut a bit shorter than he expected, but they had time now. Time to do whatever they wanted together.

And he had a pretty good idea about how to spend the _rest_ of the evening.

Nat curled her fingers around his tie, pulling him down. She was already up on her toes—even in the heels she wore, Steve towered over her. His growl set her skin on fire; all the sexual tension that had been building for the last few days threatened to boil over right there in the elevator.

"Not exactly how…I imagined," Steve breathed, sinking his fingers into her hair, gently pulling her head back. His lips trailed down her throat; he could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin.

"What did you imagine?" she replied, sounding more breathless than she expected. He pressed her up against the wall of the elevator, his hands sliding down along body.

"A little stargazing," he said, nosing at her collar. "Maybe a stroll in the park."

Nat hitched her leg over his hip. "Next time," she promised. "Next time."

"I'm going to hold you to that." He pressed his hips hard against her, reveling in her soft moan. He made her feel this way; he had her in the palm of his hand. "I've waited a long time for you."

How could he have her on fire like this _and _tug at her heartstrings? She kissed him deeply, words on the tip of her tongue. But she didn't want to tell him like this. Steve deserved better than that. But she hoped he could feel the way she felt.

The door dinged; Steve didn't want to let go, so he urged her legs around her waist, thankful for the tall slit in her gown. Nat held on, carding her fingers through his short hair. Irrationally, she missed the longer hair he'd sported during their time on the run; she'd rather liked the rugged look on him.

Steve's fingers clenched the fabric of her gown; her lips and fingers were far more distracting than they had any right to be. "Nat," he growled, kicking the door closed. "Playing with fire again."

"Maybe I want to," she replied. "Maybe I want to get burned."

As much as he wanted her, he still wanted to do this right. "You're sure, Nat?" he whispered, carrying her back toward the bedroom. "Last chance." Because if they did this, things would be different. Forever.

She smiled as he set her back on her feet. "I think we've waited long enough to get a life, don't you think?"

"I still can't believe you're really here." When Clint first told them Nat was gone, something _broke_ inside him. Just like when he lost Bucky. He knew he'd lost something he could never get back. At the time, he didn't understand _why_ felt that way, but now he did. He'd lost someone he loved. Now, he had her back. He'd brought her back, because he loved her. He hoped she felt the same way about him.

Nat stepped closer, placing her hand on his chest. "I'm really here, Steve. More importantly, I'm _with you._ This is exactly where I want to be. Do you believe me?" There was a time when she wasn't sure if he trusted her; it meant a lot, the first time he called her his friend. She needed him to believe that she was here with him, ready to take this step. She loved him.

Slowly, Steve nodded. He bent down, slanting his lips over hers. She melted into his earnest kiss, her fingers curling around the lapels of his suit jacket. Steve ran his fingers up the nipper of her gown; hers moved to the knot in his tie. She made quick work of the silk, allowing it to fall to the floor. He helped her get the jacket off, his lips never leaving her skin. Who knew Captain America could kiss like this? It felt like she was floating, even as sparks ran over her skin.

They stumbled back toward the bed; Steve dragged the zipper of her gown down her back. "Not fair," she breathed, yanking at the tails of his shirt.

"How so?"

"You have more clothes," she complained.

"Well, it's not like you haven't seen what's underneath, Agent Romanoff," Steve teased.

Oh, he was going to pay for that! She hooked her foot behind his ankle and twisted them around, tossing his larger frame onto the bed. The bedframe creaked as Steve bounced on the mattress; before he could blink, Nat sat astride him. She bent over, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Steve ran his hands over every patch of skin he could reach; she was warm and soft, so very real. He finished what he'd started, dragging the zipper of her dress the rest of the way down. He peeled the silk away from her body, groaning as he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"God, Nat," he gasped. His hand skimmed up her belly; he felt her tremble under his touch. Her eyes fell closed as he touched her, mapping out her body. The way she writhed against him drove him crazy; his pants were uncomfortably tight.

Heat blazed through her. Her dress bunched around her waist, but she didn't feel shy anymore. His hands and lips on her felt right. This felt right. She gasped as Steve flipped them over once more; she shivered once she saw the need that blazed in his eyes. She drew him down to her, their mouths meeting in a passionate kiss. "Steve," she breathed as his lips moved down her throat. She hitched her leg over his hip, drawing him closer so his crotch ground against hers. She could _feel_ him, the bulge large and firm between her legs. She bucked against him, need settling low in her belly.

Steve growled, instinctively rocking into her. She was so warm; he could only imagine how she would feel around him. Nat's fingers plucked at the buttons of his shirt, working to peel it off his muscular torso. She'd seen him shirtless hundreds of times, but never like this. He was panting hard, warm to the touch; she couldn't stop herself from tracing every inch of exposed skin.

Steve blew out a breath, an inexplicable flush rising on his cheeks. "Nat?"

She smiled, pressing her lips to one of his pecs. "Hmmm?"

"Are we really doing this?"

A wave of dread rolled through her. "Yes?"

Oh God, did she think that he didn't want this? Want _her?_ He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything. Suddenly, his nerves faded away. All that mattered was Natasha. He bent down, slanting his lips over hers, kissing her long and slow. Nat melted into the mattress, sinking her fingers into his hair and holding him close. She panted as he moved down her body, dragging the bunched material over her hips and down her legs. He let his eyes rove over her, nude save the scrap of cloth that claimed to be underwear. "You are _beautiful_, Natasha," he whispered. "My Natasha."

The sincerity in his voice threatened to overwhelm her; she wet her lips as she struggled to breathe. Before she could reply, Steve brushed his lips on her knee, slowly moving higher and higher. Nat stretched her hands up over her head, her fingers gripping the sheets as his lips scorched her skin. Her panties quickly became soaked, sticking to her swollen flesh. Steve inhaled her musky scent; his cock throbbed in response. He curled his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, quickly tugging it down her legs. Now completely bare, she refused to hide, not from Steve. He smiled at her, trailing his fingers delicately up her inner thighs. Nat moaned softly, parting her legs easily. "Steve, _please_," she breathed. She didn't like begging, but they'd waited so long for this moment. She'd waited so long for _him_ without even realizing it.

"Patience," he scolded with a smile. It seemed silly to be nervous about this. This was Natasha. Bizarre as it sounded, he was safe with her. She wanted him just as much; he could see it in her eyes. He kissed his way up her thigh, his hands spreading her legs wider and wider. Nat's eyes widened; to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She'd never asked, but she was pretty sure he was still a virgin. Not that that was a terrible thing or anything.

All thoughts flew out of her head the moment she felt his tongue on her swollen slit. A little screech erupted from her throat as he licked her; her whole body broke out in trembles. Her hips moved instinctively; Steve placed his large hand on her belly to hold her still. "Ah, ah," he rumbled, smirking up at her. "Don't make me tie you down."

She shivered. "Don't make promises you can't keep, soldier," she shot back.

Steve closed his eyes briefly; she was going to be the death of him. Perhaps one day he would indulge her. For now, he wanted to savor just being with her. He wet his lips, tasting her there. He groaned; she tasted even better than he anticipated. He leaned in again, lapping at her slowly. His thumb brushed over her hard bud, making her writhe and shake. The sounds she made were intoxicating; he would thoroughly enjoy drawing them from her again and again.

Nat braced her feet on the bed, struggling against his hold. It was fruitless; Steve was using his enhanced strength to his advantage. And she _liked_ it. Being at his mercy was liberating in a way that was new for her. She reached down, sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him to her. "God, don't stop," she breathed. "Please."

"Your wish is my command." He trailed his tongue up her slit, curling around her swollen pearl. Her cry of pleasure went straight to his groin; he took her clit between his lips and sucked firmly. She yelled, rocking hard against his face. He'd never seen Natasha lose control like this; he liked it. A lot. He desperately wanted to make her fall apart. Slowly, he eased a single finger inside her; Nat moaned her approval.

"Fuck, Steve," she gasped, trying to grind against him. "More."

He did as she asked, letting her reactions guide his touch. This might be his first time touching her like this, but as long as he followed her lead, he couldn't go wrong. One finger became two, her arousal glistening on his skin. She was so wet, dripping onto the sheets; _he_ made her feel this way. Her grip on his hair was very arousing; his cock pressed hard against the zipper of his trousers. She guided him back to her clit, sucking hard. Nat trembled and shook, right on the edge of orgasm. The pressure built higher and higher until she shattered, her walls clamping hard around his fingers. Steve groaned as he watched her climax; it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Beautiful," he murmured into her skin. "All mine."

Nat panted hard, struggling to focus. Her whole body was aflame, buzzing with pleasure. She needed more. She needed Steve to make love to her. Now. "Steve," she breathed, trying to reach for him.

He didn't need her words to know what she needed. He needed her just as much. Finally. His hands shook a little as he wrenched open his fly; he groaned as the pressure eased on his cock. A low curse tumbled from his lips, his legs kicking the offending trousers down his legs.

Nat smiled to herself when she heard him curse. "Such language," she murmured, her hand finally finding his chest.

Steve growled in frustration as he rolled on top of her with one smooth motion. Nat gasped; the feel of him against her aching slick center made her heart race. "I was in the Army, you know," he murmured, his lips dancing over her pulse. He rocked his hips experimentally, allowing her arousal to coat his throbbing erection. "We curse in the Army, Agent Romanoff."

She smiled. "Duly noted, Captain," she replied, dragging his mouth down to hers. They kissed with abandon, rocking against each other. Nat moaned into his mouth, the firm ridge of his cock stroking her perfectly. She raked her nails down is back; he moaned in her ear.

"Fuck, Nat," he hissed.

"I need you, Steve," she whispered. "Please."

He locked his gaze with her, nodding slowly. Nat wet her lips as he moved, his hand resting on her knee. He slid his hips down until he was aligned with her entrance; he couldn't look away from her face. Slowly, _so slowly,_ he pressed forward, groaning as she opened for him, swallowing him inch by inch. She was like liquid fire, so hot, so wet around him, but nothing compared to the look on her face. Her lush mouth dropped open in pleasure; her green eyes were filled with need, desire and something…else. She gripped his firm biceps, hanging on as he filled her.

Natasha cursed in Russian, bliss threatening to overwhelm her. Steve moved excruciatingly slowly, sinking deeper and deeper inside her willing body. It was so much _more_ than she'd imagined, the feel of him within her. She keened and arched, taking him even deeper until their hips were flush. Steve panted above her, every instinct demanding he move. Yet he never wanted _this_ feeling to end, the feeling of wholeness, of _rightness._ This was exactly where he was supposed to be, loving this woman with everything he had.

Nat reached up and stroked Steve's cheeks, her lips following. She kissed his lips, his cheekbones, his closed eyelids. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm right here. I'm _right here_, Steve." _I love you_, she thought. _I love you so much._ She wanted to tell him, but this wasn't the time. Soon. She'd tell him soon.

He nodded, lifting his eyes to hers. They remained lost in each other's eyes as he finally started to move, rocking his hips in a steady deep rhythm that quickly had Natasha quivering with pleasure. She hitched her legs behind his back, heels digging into the base of his spine as he laid claim to her body over and over again. He felt _so good_ inside her; she wanted to keep him there always.

She was driving him _crazy_, the sounds that tumbled from her lips, her hands on his body, her sheath swallowing him whole. His lips found hers in a heated kiss, his hips moving faster, harder. "Nat, I need…fuck, I need…"

"I know." She rolled them over so Steve was on his back; she whimpered as he slipped from her. She quickly settled over his hips, encouraging him to touch her as she guided him back inside her. Their groans filled the room as she took him easily, stretching to accommodate his girth. She cursed again in Russian, his cock stroking her just right.

"I…fuck, don't know what that…means," Steve gasped, his fingertips stroking the underside of her full breasts.

"I'll teach you…later," she promised, bending over him. He palmed her breasts, thumbs stroking her nipples until they were hard points. _"Fuck."_

"That I understood," he replied with a grin. He rolled his hips under her, groaning as their hips came together with a hard smacking sound. When Nat braced herself above him, he took one of her firm nipples into his mouth and sucked hard. She cried out, fresh waves of arousal flooding her sex. Instinctively, she moved faster, riding him hard. Steve groaned, the feel of her putting him right back on the edge of the precipice. _"Nat. Fuck, Nat."_

She could feel him trembling under her; she kissed him quickly. "It's okay," she promised, dragging his hand to her swollen nub. He took the hint, stroking her with quick strokes. Nat let out a sound she didn't recognize, her whole body hovering on the edge of orgasm. It washed over her in a rush, walls gripping him tight, riding him through it, desperate to bring him with her. She felt him let go, his cock pulsing inside her, hips driving hard into hers. It was perfect sort of bliss.

Steve held her as she came down from her high, her skin slick with sweat and sex. He never realized that sex had its own unique scent; he liked it. Or, more specifically, he liked _her_. Steve brushed his lips over her temple, so thankful to have her there with him. "I love you."

Nat hummed in pleasure, her hand seeking his. She brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. She could feel his heart racing, but the peace she heard in his voice floored her. She gave that to him. Suddenly, she needed him to know. Right now. Once she could breathe normally again, she raised her head. His eyes were closed, a content smile on his lips. "I love you too, Steve."

Steve's eyes snapped open; did he hear what he thought he heard? "Nat…"

"That's not very encouraging," she quipped, hoping she hadn't chosen the wrong moment.

"No, that's not what I meant. I didn't…we didn't…we didn't do this for that," he said seriously. He was still a bit breathless, but he needed her to know. He never wanted her to feel obligated or anything like that. "You know that, right?"

She nodded. "I know. I wanted this, Steve." She kissed him quickly. "I've been wanting to tell you; I just didn't know how. I was…scared, I guess."

"Black Widow, scared?"

She lightly smacked his chest. "You know what I meant."

He kissed her forehead. "Yeah, I do." He understood perfectly. Fear was one of the reasons he'd run from his feelings for her for so long, longer than he'd care to admit. Still, he was feeling a little bit selfish. "Say it again?"

"I love you, Steve Rogers."

"I love you too, Natasha Romanoff."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** This is the chapter where things start to get a bit real. Two notes of warning, I guess? First, if you're a fan of Endgame Hulk, you might not be a fan of him in this chapter. I'm personally not a fan of Professor Hulk (I agree with Valkyrie, I liked him better before.), but there is no denying that he and Nat have a past that I felt needed to be dealt with before Nat and Steve can move forward. As you could guess, this also means that Nat's infertility will also come up. FYI, there will be no magic fixes in this story. If you're expecting an epilogue featuring James, you're going to be disappointed. I wanted Steve and Nat to have something substantial to deal with, something that could threaten their happiness. If that's not your thing, feel free to end the fic with the last chapter. If you're still reading, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Nope.

**Chapter 4**

The faint sound of scratching woke her. Nat didn't open her eyes right away; preferring to stretch out under the covers. The twinge low in her belly was a pleasant reminder of how she'd spent her night; happiness swelled in her chest. It was an unfamiliar feeling, the contentment that permeated her being. For the first time in a long time, she was at peace.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

Natasha finally opened her eyes, rolling onto her side so she could look up at her bedmate. "What time is it?"

"About ten."

Nat propped her head in her hand, drinking him in. Steve was propped up against the pillows, bare chested, his handsome face creased in concentration. He offered her a warm smile before turning back to something in his lap. "Don't you ever sleep in?" she asked. Steve always was an early riser, for as long as she'd known him. She just assumed it was the soldier in him. While they'd been on the run from Ross and his cronies, she hadn't thought anything about it. Being on the move early was simply part of the life they'd led. She realized that she didn't know much about casual Steve.

"I did," he replied, a smirk playing at his lips.

"How late? Seven? Eight?"

"Actually, I just got up a little while ago. Late night and all that."

Nat couldn't stop herself from smiling, not when he looked so happy. "A good late night, I hope."

"The best." He slid the tray in his lap forward a bit so he could lean over to kiss her. Nat squeaked in surprise, her hand moving automatically to slide into his hair. Her first few days in his place hadn't started this way; whenever she woke up, Steve would already be up, showered and cooking breakfast. She wondered if that had been his way of avoiding temptation. He was very tempting now; her roving fingers discovered that he was still naked under the thin sheet. "Natasha," he breathed, half turning on his hip, pressing her back into her pillow.

She coaxed his lips down her throat, a laugh catching there. "Not worried about morning breath, I see," she teased, biting her lip as he pulled the sheet away from her body.

"Are you?" Steve shot back, the stubble on his chin scratching her skin deliciously.

Nat shivered, his large hands sliding down her belly. Desire pooled between her legs, making her wet for him. "Nope." She grabbed his hair and yanked, dragging his mouth back to hers. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, cut off by Steve banging into his portable writing desk.

"Shit, sorry," he apologized. He moved quickly, setting the offending furniture back on the floor before turning his attention back to Nat. He tore the sheet the rest of the way off her, revealing her lush curves.

"What is that anyway?" Nat asked, struggling to focus as Steve parted her thighs. He kissed her ankle, his lips slowly moving higher and higher.

"Portable writing desk," he murmured, groaning as the scent of her arousal hit him full force. She was already wet, her sex pink and glistening, begging to be filled. Steve hardened instantly, eager to feel her again. They'd made love several times during the night, but it seemed he still didn't have enough of her. He found the sensitive spot behind her knee, making her gasp.

Nat squirmed, her hips bucking off the bed. Steve was deliberately trying to distract her! Curse his photographic memory! He'd spent much of the night just memorizing her body, learning all the places that made her quiver in pleasure. "Why do you…fuck, have one?"

Steve arched a brow at her. "That's what you want to know, right now, Romanoff?"

"Just curious," she replied, licking her lips. "Some girls might be offended that their lover is spending the morning after mind blowing sex _writing."_

Steve skimmed his fingers along her inner thighs. "I wasn't writing."

"That's not what it looked like."

He ran his thumbs deftly over her sex, grinning as she shivered. "I was drawing, if you must know."

"Oh," she breathed, trying to get more of his touch. "What were you…hmmm, drawing?"

"I thought that would be obvious, Agent Romanoff." He ducked down, his stubble rubbing the delicate skin of her thighs as he licked her from back to front. Nat moaned loudly, fisting his hair. She idly wondered if Steve's neighbors could hear them; if so, they got an earful the night before. She found she didn't care very much.

"Show me…later," she demanded, her heels digging into his shoulders as he continued his sensual assault on her body. Steve was a very quick learner; he seemed to relish learning new ways to make her cry out and beg for more. He licked and nibbled at her core, those strong hands of his lifting her to bring her closer to his mouth. Nat reached for the headboard, needing it to anchor her as Steve's tongue fucked her dripping entrance. Anyone who expected Captain America to be a prude in the bedroom was way off the mark.

Natasha loved every minute of it.

Steve groaned as her sweetness burst across his tongue; he ground his hips into the mattress to try and ease the ache in his cock. He needed her so badly, yet he wanted to savor every moment with her. Her thighs trembled around his head; he knew she was close. Resting her back on the bed, he slipped two fingers into her heat, pumping slowly. Nat moaned her approval, bucking against him. "Steve," she whined, arching off the bed. "Please."

"Please what?" he growled, curling his fingers ever so slightly. Nat jumped when he stroked her g spot, her fingers tightening on the rungs of his headboard. She looked so beautiful like this, nude, skin flushed, nipples firm, lips kiss swollen, begging for him.

"Don't make…me…beg," she panted, frustrated. His fingers slowed, teasing her.

"I like it when you beg." He really did. Nat was so controlled, and with good reason. He liked that he could make her lose control.

"Not…fair."

He grinned. "You'll have plenty of chances to turn the tables, Romanoff." He bent over her, his lips next to her ear. "If fact, I'm looking forward to it."

Nat groaned, her mind going in a thousand different directions. She'd find a way to get him back, she promised herself. Later. "Make me come," she pleaded, dragging his mouth to hers to kiss him deeply. She could taste herself on his tongue; it only made her need him more. "Then I want you to fuck me. Hard. Deep. The way you've always wanted to." She loved sweet tender Steve. She did. However, she sensed he was holding back. She didn't want him to feel like he had to do that. Not with her. She could handle all of him.

"Nat," Steve whispered in awe. How did she know? His desire for her was intense; now that he'd had her, he only wanted more. He wanted her in a way that scared him and excited him at the same time. Things between them had changed so quickly; his mind was struggling to catch up. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." She kissed him deeply, groaning loudly as his fingers picked up the pace. She cursed again in Russian, which seemed to drive Steve nuts. He moved back down between her legs and wrapped his lips around her clit. In seconds, she climaxed, screaming his name. Wave after wave rocked her, Steve didn't let up until she was spent. He placed a parting kiss to her swollen nub before kissing his way up her body.

"I think that's my new favorite thing," he murmured, swirling his tongue around her nipples.

"What's that?" she panted, humming as his rock hard cock ground against her aching sex. She'd _just_ come, but she still needed to feel him inside her.

"Making you scream for me." He captured her lips in a needy kiss, his hips grinding against hers.

"Oh god." She might have created a monster and she simply did not care. Being with Steve was well beyond anything she could have imagined.

"We're not done yet." He flipped her over like she weighed nothing; he grinned at her surprised yelp. Her surprise, however, didn't stop her from perching perfectly on her hands and knees, offering herself to him, just as she'd promised. Steve groaned at the sight of her; she was his. Finally. He'd had to wait a long damn time for her, but she was worth it.

Nat moaned in pleasure as the tip of his cock stroked her entrance; she couldn't stop herself from leaning toward him, eager to take him. A long low cry tumbled from her lips as he pushed inside; her slick sex stretched wide to accommodate him. Nat had a few lovers in her life, but _nothing_ had ever felt like this. Instinctively, she widened her knees, which allowed her to take him deeper, all the way to the hilt. They both cursed at how _good_ it felt, her walls gripping him so tight.

"Fuck, Nat. You feel…"

Nat wet her lips, fisting the sheet. "I know. So good, Steve."

He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. Nat cried out, her body on fire. Steve's hands were tight on her hips, holding her steady so he could slam into her exactly like she asked. She pushed back to meet him, moaning at each slap of his balls against her aching clit. "Just like that," Nat moaned, her back arching. _"Just like that."_

Steve drove into her again and again, unable to look away as he claimed her body over and over. She was so slick, drenching his cock in her arousal, dripping on his skin. There was something primal about having her like this, making her utterly his. Nat gave as good as she got, clenching her core muscles around him every time he took her. She was making him see stars, her body lush and perfect around him.

The angle changed abruptly as Steve grabbed her by the waist and settled her in his lap. Nat planted her feet on the bed, leaning against his broad chest as he took her harder, his hips snapping into hers. He touched her with deft fingers, circling her clit firmly. "Come," he demanded, their skin slapping as he slammed into her. "Want to feel you, Natasha."

She bit her lip, her body hovering on the precipice. Steve pinched her clit hard, setting off a detonation inside her. Nat screamed, her body convulsing as she climaxed _hard._ Steve grunted, her walls gripping him tightly. He slammed into her once, twice, three times, before following her, his hips stuttering as emptied himself deep inside her.

They collapsed onto the bed, Steve's weight pressing her into the mattress. He moved quickly, rolling off her before he could crush her. Sometimes he forgot how much smaller she was. "Nat?"

"Hmmm?"

"You okay?"

"I'm good." Endorphins still rushed through her; she made a mental note to bring caveman Steve out more often. She liked it.

Steve curled up against her back, his hand settling on her belly. "You sure?"

"One hundred percent." She was so sated; she didn't want to move. But she mustered the will to bring Steve's hand to her lips. "I'm tough, remember?"

Steve smiled into her hair. "Believe me, I know." It was one of the reasons he loved her. "I could get used to this."

"To what?"

"Us. Waking up together like this." He hadn't said anything yet, not wanting to push her. But he wanted Nat to live with him. Hell, he wanted more than that, but he figured they'd take things one step at a time. He wasn't sure what she wanted; she might want her own space. As far as he knew, she'd never had a home of her own, not a real one. He hadn't had a real home since his mother passed.

Her heart rate down to a more manageable level, Nat turned around. "Steve, are you asking me to move in with you? Permanently?"

"No! Well, not yet. You just got back; I'd understand if you wanted your own place." He inwardly cringed at his rambling; he hadn't meant to bring it up at all. Leave it to Nat to anticipate him.

Nat's face softened, touched by his words. "I didn't mean it like that. It seems kind of silly to find my own place now, don't you think?"

"It is?"

Nat sighed. "Please tell me you're not this clueless, Rogers. Although, since we blew past the sex before marriage thing, you might be freaking out."

"I am not 'freaking out,'" he countered, pouting. "It didn't feel like I was freaking out earlier, did it?"

She smirked. "Definitely not." Her lips brushed over his. "I rather liked you like that."

"Really?"

She nodded. "You've been wound up tight for almost a century, Steve. Time you let loose a little." She stroked his scruff. "I trust you." That was a big thing for her to say. Natasha had spent most of her life not trusting anyone; trust was the anthesis of her profession. If she couldn't trust Steve Rogers, then she couldn't trust anyone.

He grinned at her. "The soldier and the spy. Who would have thought that?"

"Titles are overrated, Rogers. You should know that." She kissed him again, long and sweet. "Now how about we go shower so we can have some breakfast? I'm starving."

"Yes, ma'am." Before she could blink, he scooped her up and marched them to the bathroom. Nat burst into giggles, only half heartedly trying to get away. Why would she when she was having so much fun?

* * *

"So, do I get to see what you were working on?" Nat asked, hoping she sounded casual. She hadn't even known Steve had a portable writing desk, let alone used it in bed. What could have been that important?

Steve surprised her by blushing a little. It was cute. "It's not a big deal."

"Because waking up to her boyfriend doing _work_ is good for a girl's ego," she teased.

"It's not like that!" he shot back quickly. Then he realized she was teasing him. "That tongue's going to get you into trouble one day, Romanoff."

She laughed. "Who's to say it hasn't already?"

The truth was Steve was a little nervous about showing her. His art wasn't something he put out there. Before the serum, it was his passion. It was the one thing you didn't need speed or strength or stamina to achieve. As long as he had a pencil and paper, he could make art anywhere. It passed the time while he looked after his ailing mother or when he was laid up from going after another bully. Bucky tried to convince him to pursue it professionally, but Steve never got the chance. First the Depression, then the war. Once Dr. Erskine chose him for the program, his whole life changed. He still drew, but it was more to combat boredom, a way to keep himself sane as he trudged from one city to the next.

Natasha saw his hesitation. "Hey, it's okay. I was just curious. Believe it or not, I don't know _everything_ about you, Rogers."

He reached out, covering her hand with his. "No, it's not that. I just haven't shown anyone in a long time." The last person he'd shared his art with was Peggy.

"Steve, you really don't have to."

He shook his head. "Yes, I do. I want to." He gave her a smile before rising to head back to the bedroom. He carefully gathered his most recent work into the thin portfolio; every single piece was Natasha. Some were drawn from memory; others from life. He hadn't felt truly inspired in a long time; it was another thing she gave back to him. When he returned, she sat cross legged in the kitchen chair, her hair swept to one side. "Be gentle," he said softly. "Some of them aren't my best work."

Nat accepted the thin leather portfolio, her head tilted to one side. Steve was clearly nervous about her reaction; she couldn't imagine why. She allowed the folder to fall open in her lap; her jaw promptly fell open. Steve was an _artist_? Why didn't she know this? Of all things she expected, none of them were _this._ Gently, she picked up the first drawing. She was clearly the subject, but she couldn't place it at first. The drawing was charcoal on expensive looking parchment; she was afraid to touch it. Her hair was shorter than she'd worn it in years; she was wearing her old tactical suit.

"That was the day we met," Steve explained. "On the helicarrier."

She smiled. "I remember. Everyone was in awe of you."

"What did you think?"

She smirked. "I _knew_ you were too good to be true."

"Did you now?"

"No one's _that_ perfect_, _Rogers. Not even you."

"I never claimed to be." He was flawed just like everyone else. He could be stubborn when he wanted to be. He found it hard to compromise, especially when he believed he was right. He made mistakes, big ones sometimes.

"When did you draw this?"

"A couple of days ago."

"Really?" Upon closer examination, the paper did look new. "It's really good, Steve." She flipped through a few more, memories flooding her mind. She recognized a few of them, missions, evenings relaxing at the compound. There was even one of her at the disastrous party at Stark Tower, before Ultron attacked. "This is an interesting one."

"What?" He peered over, the tips of his ears flushing red. "Oh."

She grinned wider, his reaction intriguing. "Is there something you're not telling me, Steve?" It was beautiful, a sketch of her seated on one of Tony's couches, a drink in her hand. But she'd recognize that outfit anywhere. The events of that night were indelibly imprinted on her memory. Yes, it was a party, but she'd gone above and beyond when choosing her outfit. She hadn't realized anyone aside from Bruce even noticed.

Clearly, Steve had noticed.

He rubbed the back of his neck; he half shrugged. "You're a beautiful woman, Nat. I've always noticed that."

"This seems like more than that," she prodded gently. Nat herself had been neck deep in her…whatever with Bruce. Not really a flirtation, not really a relationship; they'd both been too damaged for anything serious. She simply couldn't see it at the time. Like Steve, she ignored what was right in front of her. The idea that someone like Steve could want someone like her still sounded mildly insane. But here he was, entrusting her with something as personal as his art.

Steve took the piece from her, letting his eyes drift over it. "I think…I _know_ I've had feelings for you for a long time. I just couldn't let myself be happy when I'd lost so much."

"Peggy?"

"Not _just_ Peggy, but yeah. I couldn't lose anyone else. With what we do…" He sighed. "Then I lost you anyway. You know what hurt the most?" Nat shook her head. "I never got to tell you. I made that mistake once; it hurt a thousand times worse the second time."

"Oh Steve." Nat abandoned the portfolio and climbed into his lap. He laid the sketch aside to wrap his arms around her; she straddled his lap, their foreheads pressed together. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, soldier," she murmured quietly. "I'm right here."

He believed her, but that didn't change their reality. "Could you give it up, being an Avenger?"

"Could you?"

"I thought I could, but someone knocked some sense into me." Steve had never been the kind of person to walk away from a fight. When he saw a bully, he had to stand up for the little guy. It was a part of him, something that had nothing to do with the supersoldier serum. That was all Steve Rogers.

Nat leaned back, soaking in his handsome face. No, her Steve would never just walk away. It was the thing she loved most about him; he never gave up. He had moments of doubt like everyone else, but his good nature won out in the end. She was proof of that. "We may not be ready to _retire_, but there's no rule saying we can't still live our lives. Besides, there's more than just us. You don't have to take the whole world on your shoulders." She ran her hands over his broad muscular shoulders, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Although, they are very nice shoulders, I have to say."

Steve growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to cover her ass. "Watch it, Romanoff."

"Or what?"

Rather than answer her, he crushed his lips to hers. She let out a happy squeal, melting into him. He dragged her closer, until she rested right over his crotch. Nat wiggled and writhed, deliberately provoking him. She couldn't resist aggressive needy Steve; it was beyond her willpower.

Needless to say, they were very late getting out that morning.

* * *

Nat leaned into the stretch, sighing as felt her muscles loosen. Steve was out. When he told her he wanted to check in on some of the people in his old support group, she encouraged him. With everyone back, people faced a whole new series of challenges. There was no one better than Steve to help them navigate it. She missed him, but she didn't want to start this relationship by being _too_ selfish.

She still wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. Ever since she joined S.H.I.E.L.D., she had a mission, something to keep her occupied. Even after the fight at the Triskelion, she'd found new mission. She didn't like being idle. But with the compound destroyed and the team scattered, there was no mission. No threats were lurking, at least not yet. Natasha was just cynical enough to accept that there would always be something. Evil still lurked in the world. In the universe.

She smiled to herself, wondering how Rocket and Nebula were doing. Bucky and Sam had placed themselves in charge of finding Loki then filling in Thor and the Guardians about recent events, but they hadn't heard anything yet. Steve didn't say anything, but Nat could tell he was getting a bit restless. He thought Loki was his responsibility, since he brought him back. She suspected if they didn't hear from Bucky and Sam soon, they would be on a plane to Norway within the week.

Keeping the Avengers afloat had been her mission for five years; now that she didn't have that, she wasn't sure what to do. She'd never had a regular job, aside from covers on ops, like when she worked at Stark Industries to keep an eye on Tony. Being a spy didn't seem right anymore; besides, she didn't want to leave Steve. They both agreed that neither could give up fighting the good fight entirely, but beyond that, she wasn't sure. Steve had his support group and his art. What did she have?

The thought depressed her.

She'd been raised to be a killing machine, but that wasn't who she was. Not anymore.

Was there a shooting range around here? Whenever her head got muddled, shooting helped center her. She wiped her damp face off with a towel, grabbing her phone. She was still flipping through the Google results when she heard the buzzer for the door go off. Frowning, she trotted over to the speaker. "Who's there?"

"Hey Nat. It's me," Bruce's voice rumbled through the connection.

"Hey Bruce." What was he doing here?

"Mind if I come up?"

"What? Oh yeah, sure." She buzzed him through, then hurried to return the living room to a semipresentable state. She'd pushed all the furniture aside for her yoga session. Just as she finished, a somewhat loud knock echoed in the room. Natasha pulled the door open, stepping aside to let Bruce in.

The large green form of the Hulk angled through the doorway. "Not exactly Hulk sized," he joked, ducking to enter.

"Not many things are," Nat observed dryly. He'd been like this for a while, but it still surprised her when Bruce looked out of the eyes of the Hulk. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to it. He was dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, his right arm was still in a sling. "Can I get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though."

It wasn't until he was fully inside that she noticed the box under his arm. "What's that?"

Bruce shrugged. "Just some stuff from the compound. I was trying to clean up a bit, see if I could salvage anything."

"Oh. Well, thanks." She took the box from him and laid it aside. "Anything _else_ bring you all the way to Brooklyn?" She wasn't stupid; she'd seen the disappointment in his eyes when she agreed to live with Steve for a few weeks. Neither of them ever said anything, but they had some unfinished business. After Thanos, she threw herself into the Avengers, Bruce into marshalling the Hulk. Neither ever mentioned what happened in Sokovia or Bruce's two year disappearing act. There had been bigger fish to fry; after their failure, it hadn't seemed important.

She couldn't imagine that he still harbored feelings for her, but he _had_ come all this way with a box. For no real reason that she could see. She'd put those nascent feelings for Bruce behind her a long time ago. "Have a seat," she offered. "It's been a while since…"

Bruce nodded. "It's been…a while, for sure." He tried to sit in one of Steve's chairs, but it just wasn't big enough for someone his size. Bruce hopped out of it before he could break it, opting to sit on the floor. A silence filled the room, neither quite sure what to say. There was so much left unsaid between them; so much time had passed. Finally, Bruce spoke. "So, uh, how does it feel?"

"What do you mean?"

"Being back," he clarified, wincing inwardly. He'd never been good at making small talk. Now everything with Nat was awkward. He knew it was partly his fault, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap. "How does it feel being back?"

Nat shrugged. "I wasn't gone that long."

Bruce glanced away. "Yeah, of course. Forget it."

"No, it's okay." She knew what he was asking. What was it like coming back from the dead? "It was disorienting, to be honest. If Steve hadn't been there, I don't think it would have felt real. It still feels a little bit surreal." Her life as she'd known it prior to going to Vormir was gone. Building a new one would take time. Lucky for her, she had someone to share it with.

"What happened?" Bruce was just so happy to have Nat back, that he hadn't asked too many questions. But he had to admit, he was curious. Clint made it sound impossible.

"Steve happened," she said simply. She wasn't sure how much she wanted Bruce to know, if she was being honest with herself. "There was an exchange for the stone; another exchange brought me back."

"What was the exchange?"

"Loki actually."

Bruce frowned. "Loki? As in the God of Mischief? Thor's brother?" The last time he saw Loki, he was standing before Thanos. Which was right before the Hulk promptly got his ass handed to him. Bruce wasn't exactly Loki's biggest fan, though he could admit Loki came through when it counted. He saw for himself just how devastated Thor was at his brother's death.

"One and the same."

"So what? Loki's alive? Where? How?"

"Here on earth. Sam and Bucky are looking for him. He promised Steve he'd lay low during the last five years."

Bruce looked incredulous. "Loki? Lay low? That doesn't sound right."

"Steve trusted him," she shot back. "I trust Steve. So should you." What happened to Bruce? She wasn't sure she liked this version of him.

"Come on, Nat. It's Steve. I didn't mean it like that."

"Why are you here, Bruce? Really?"

"I came to see how you are. I found some things from the compound, I thought you might like to have them back."

"I appreciate that, Bruce. Really."

They lapsed into silence again. Nat wasn't sure she believed Bruce's excuse though. He seemed…uncomfortable? It was hard to tell. She knew Bruce; she knew the Hulk. She was still getting used to having them melded together like this. She tried again. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"What for?"

"Sokovia. It was my fault you left like that."

Bruce shook his head. "There was more going on than what happened with us," Bruce said, his fingers tightening on his knees. "Though I have to admit it did sting."

Nat nodded. She deserved that. In a way, she'd betrayed him. When he found her in Sokovia, he made it clear that he wanted to run away with her, to leave the Hulk behind, as much as he could. She shoved him down that shaft, forcing him back into the thing he hated. Just because Bruce seemed to have made peace with the Hulk, it didn't mean what she did hurt any less. "I had to do what I felt was right."

"I wonder where you got that from."

The way he said it gave her pause. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just never expected it. Not from you."

"Never expected _what?_ If I didn't know better, I'd say you're making saving a city filled with innocents sound like a bad thing, Bruce."

"Is that what you were doing?"

"Of course it was."

"It didn't feel like that."

"I've said I'm sorry, Bruce. What more do you want?"

"I don't know." Abruptly, Bruce stood and started pacing back and forth. His heavy footfalls made the building tremble, but Nat didn't try to stop him, not that she could. Melded with the Hulk or not, he could squish her if he truly wanted to. She waited for him to decide how to explain himself. She was done trying to figure out what he wanted. She'd made her choice; she'd made it long ago, if she was being honest with herself.

Eventually, Bruce stopped pacing. "I'm sorry, Nat. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come."

"Bruce, we're still friends. At least, I'd like to still be friends." She didn't think this was the right time to announce that she and Steve were dating, not when Bruce's feelings were so raw. All they'd done was dredge up old memories and pain; they both needed to move on.

His face softened. "I'd like that. Just give me a little time."

"Sure."

He offered her a wry grin. "Let me know when you get your own place; I'll help you move in."

Nat bit her lip and glanced away. She could _lie_, but that wasn't who she was anymore. "Um, I think I'm going to stay with Steve for the foreseeable future," she said diplomatically. "Adjusting and all that." Which _wasn't_ a lie, strictly speaking. Hell, if Bruce had come by just a few days earlier she would have accepted his offer. She thought that was what would happen. But Steve surprised her. Now this was where she wanted to be.

Bruce laughed. "A bachelor pad? That's funny, Nat." As he watched her face, his amusement faded. He took a closer look at the apartment. He'd never been to Steve's place, but he wasn't an idiot. There was no couch. Nor was there any sign of anyone sleeping on the floor. Steve was too much of a gentleman to let Natasha sleep on the floor anyway. Which meant… "You and Steve?"

Nat saw the moment he figured it out. "Yeah." She kept her head up; she wasn't going to be ashamed of her choices. She loved Steve. He loved her, so much so that he defied the universe to bring her back. Bruce abandoned her for two years. She didn't owe him anything.

"Didn't see that coming," Bruce observed. His face became unreadable; it was a little disconcerting. "Does he know?"

"About what?"

"That you're…you know. Sterile."

Nat blinked, shocked to her core that Bruce of all people could be so _cold_ about it. Did he think it was something she wanted? "Not yet." She knew she needed to tell him before they got any deeper into this relationship; Steve deserved to know everything he was in for.

"How do you think he'll react? He's always struck me as a 'white picket fence, wife and kids' kind of guy."

That was a low blow, even given Bruce's hurt feelings. "I think you should leave now, Bruce. Before you say something we'll both regret."

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. All he did was nod and turn to leave. Nat didn't move until the door closed behind him. Steve kept a training dummy in the hall closet; anger burning through her, she hauled it out. She considered it for a moment, then she borrowed some of Steve's art supplies to draw a crude face on the top of the dummy. Green, of course. Just the sight of the color stoked her anger, just as she wanted right then. She didn't bother to wrap her hands or change her clothes; she just _lit_ into the padded stationary figure. Kicks and punches beat the padding out of shape, not that it was in such great shape to begin with. Clearly, she wasn't the only one who occasionally needed to blow off some steam. Was this how Steve passed the time when he wasn't working with his support group or visiting her at the compound? The only hobby she knew about was his art. From what he'd said, he hadn't indulged in his art in a long time. Like her, he probably thought the only other thing he was good at was fighting.

After about half an hour, her anger and hurt burned out. At least, the worst of it had. If she saw Bruce anytime soon, she wouldn't shoot him. That was an improvement. What was his problem? They'd never really been together, yet he acted like he was what? Jealous? Of her and Steve? He had no right! He _left_ her—for two years—yet now he wanted what? A second chance? Truthfully, that was Bruce's fundamental problem. He didn't know _what_ he wanted. He never did. Well, Nat knew what and who she wanted. There was nothing Bruce could do about that.

Tangling with the dummy did succeed in putting her on a more even keel, but it also left her sweaty and disheveled. She grabbed the box Bruce had brought, intending to go through it after a shower. The hot water sluiced over her body, washing away any lingering unpleasantness from the visit with Bruce. Even now, she didn't hate him or anything like that. Angry with him? Hell yes. But eventually, she'd get over it. Maybe then, they could try to rebuild some kind of friendship.

Shower complete, she wrapped herself in a towel and padded back to the bedroom. She didn't expect Steve for hours yet, but she was very curious about what Bruce managed to salvage. When she'd taken a look at the battlefield, it was little more than a crater; a crater filled with twisted metal and broken glass. There didn't seem to be much left; she'd pretty much written it off as a lost cause. She'd never considered herself an overly sentimental person; things could be replaced.

The box was pretty heavy; she wrinkled her nose as she opened it. A faint stench of smoke clung to the items; several of them seemed singed. A few scorched photos, a pair of Nat's old ballet shoes. She smiled as she handled them; she hadn't even thought about ballet in a long time. Too long. Maybe she could take it up again, just for fun. Maybe she'd dance for Steve. He would like that, she thought.

Down toward the bottom, she found a leather bound portfolio, the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo embossed on the reverse side. Her brow crinkled in confusion; it looked _old._ Much older than her time at S.H.I.E.L.D. How had something like that wound up at the compound? Had Tony gone digging through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s old files? It was impossible to know. Curiosity got the better of her. She unlatched the cord that held it together and started to peel through the slightly damp pages. Some of it was familiar; she recognized bits from Steve's war record, the public parts anyway. There was even a photo of a much skinnier Steve Rogers, one she'd never seen. She looked at it fondly, her fingertip stroking along his jaw. This was Steve as Peggy knew him, asthmatic, scrawny, yet possessed of a spine of steel.

Behind the photo was a single sheet, the edges yellowed, the ink faded. Yet it was the header of the stationary that got her attention. _From the Desk of Margaret Carter, Director._

Margaret. _Peggy._ Steve's Peggy had been S.H.I.E.L.D. Director? He'd mentioned that Peggy helped found the organization in passing; Nat hadn't fully registered it at the time. Now she saw it in black and white. Her eyes drifted downward and promptly widened in shock. _The letter was addressed to her._

_Dearest Natasha,_

_I hope you don't mind me addressing you as such; strangely, I feel a strong kinship with you, despite knowing little about you. This is not a letter I ever expected to write; however, this seems to be a day for the unexpected. You see, I got to see Steve again. He was here; I could touch him. It was an opportunity I never expected to have; I thought I'd resigned myself to losing him._

_I'm sure Steve has told you all of this by now; you must be asking yourself why I would write this letter. I've been asking myself that for the last hour, but I felt like this was something you would need one day. You and I will never meet, but we share one fundamental truth. We both love Steve. He expressed some doubts on this point, but I knew. Listening to him speak of you, how could I not know? I am so happy for him; I know of no one more deserving of happiness._

_Yet, honestly, the reality is bittersweet for me. I am so thankful for the chance to say goodbye; I am thankful to know that he is happy and loved. Even though I sent him away, I can't help but wonder what could have been. It is terribly selfish, but if anyone could understand, I think it would be you, the one person who loves him as dearly as I. I know you will make each other very happy; I wish you a long life together. Please keep him out of trouble as much as you can; he seems to be a magnet for it._

Nat smiled at that; she knew she would fail miserably. She was just as much a magnet for trouble as Steve was.

_I am enclosing some of Steve's possessions from the war, keepsakes that I have looked after for twenty five years. They are rightfully his; I know you will ensure he receives them. Perhaps you can pass them down to your children. I'm sure they will be beautiful. I have two of my own; I know Steve will be wonderful father._

_Please accept all my love and prayers for your future._

_Sincerely,_

_Peggy_

Unbidden, tears stung her eyes. Children. The one thing she couldn't give him. It didn't matter that it wasn't her fault. It didn't matter about how she felt, whether or not she even wanted kids. She loved being Aunt Nat to Clint's kids, but having one of her own? She knew long ago it wasn't going to happen, so she'd accepted the role of aunt readily enough. She had no idea what Steve wanted; everything had been such a whirlwind since she came back; the subject had never come up. Bruce mentioned it too.

Nat swiped at her cheek; she was being ridiculous. Still, she couldn't quite silence the little voice in her head. If anyone wanted to have kids, it would be Steve Rogers. Peggy was right; he would be a great dad. More tears fell as she pictured him with a toddler, a little boy that shared his brilliant blue eyes. Or a little girl with his blonde hair.

God, she needed to get her head on straight. The truth was, she didn't _know_ how Steve felt about kids. Bruce could speculate all he wanted; he didn't know any better than she did. For all that, the potential answer now scared the shit out of her. She needed some time to think.

She hoped Steve would understand.

She slipped Peggy's letter back into the portfolio and tucked the box into a corner. She dressed into some comfortable clothes, then she scribbled a brief note to Steve. She didn't want him to worry. She wasn't _running_; she just needed time to clear her head. Shouldering a small bag, she grabbed her phone and called a cab. There was only one person she felt she could talk to. She needed to see Clint.

* * *

"Nat?" Steve called, sliding his bomber jacket off his shoulders. He was gone longer than he'd planned; he hadn't realized how confusing it would be for some people, having everyone back. The trouble was, some actually had begun to move on. Now their loved ones were back, and they weren't quite sure how to handle it. Getting Nat back had given him some perspective; he offered the best advice he could. He wished Sam was there; he was more comfortable with that sort of thing. If Steve was being honest with himself, he'd taken on that burden in his friend's honor. But Sam was back now. Perhaps it was time for Steve to find another vocation.

Steve frowned; there didn't seem to be any sign of her. He rechecked his phone; there was no text or message. _Don't worry_, he chastised himself. _You know she can take care of herself._ He hung up his jacket and unbuttoned his sleeves. He came up short when he spotted the practice dummy sitting in the middle of his living room. What was that about? It looked even more beat up that usual; the head had a crude face drawn on it. Its features were green, with spiky black hair. Bruce? Why would Nat draw Bruce on a practice dummy? He rolled his sleeves up as he headed for the bedroom, a sense of worry settling in his gut; it was the only place he hadn't looked for her. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on it; it was possible he was just overreacting. It had been an exhausting day; he'd been looking forward to spending the evening with her. Perhaps do that stargazing he'd promised her.

He was surprised to find a box tucked into one corner of his bedroom. Where had it come from? The items in it looked a bit worse for wear. Steve knelt down, picking through it, hoping for a clue. There were a few items he recognized from the compound, some his, some Nat's. A pair of silk ballet slippers caught his eye. He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his mouth; he knew Nat had studied ballet in Russia, but he'd never seen her dance. He would like that. A lot.

Under the slippers was a thin portfolio; his eyes widened as he recognized the old S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. He slipped open the clasp; he spotted the now familiar old photo of himself, pre-serum. But it was the letter under it that got his attention. He recognized Peggy's handwriting instantly, but the letter wasn't for him. It was for Natasha.

He skimmed it quickly, feeling like he was intruding. Yet, when he finished, he knew why he loved both women so dearly. He silently thanked Peggy again for sending him home; all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life making Nat happy. He'd finally found where he belonged.

But where was she? He moved back through the apartment, wondering. Had Peggy's letter unnerved her? He suspected she hadn't really processed everything, especially where Peggy was concerned. Could Nat think that she was some sort of consolation prize? Or something worse? He was missing something, but he couldn't figure out what. He went into the kitchen; he spotted something sticking out under a magnet on the fridge.

_Steve,_

_I've gone to visit Clint and the family for a few days. I know this is sudden, but please trust that this is something I have to do. We'll talk when I get back._

_All my love,_

_Nat_

If that was supposed to make him feel better, it failed miserably. What did she need to talk to Clint about that she _couldn't_ talk to him about? Everything was fine when he left; he came home, and she was _gone._ Steve got out his phone and dialed Nat's number. It went straight to voicemail. Clint lived in Missouri; more than likely, she'd gotten on a plane.

This made no sense. He tried to call Clint, but no one answered. He tamped down the dread; whatever was going on, he was sure Nat was safe, at least. He would know if something had happened to her.

He ran his fingers though his air, trying to think. Something happened, that much was obvious. The box seemed to be the key; it definitely hadn't been there when he left that morning. Someone had brought it. Who? Bruce seemed to be the clear candidate, given the state of his practice dummy. Bruce hurt Nat a lot when he left after Sokovia. She never talked about it, but Steve could see it. He never pushed her about it; he knew all too well how something like that felt. Things had been awkward when Bruce came back, but with everything going on with Thanos, no one mentioned it. Except Sam, but he knew Nat well enough not to get in her face. After the Snap, romance was the last thing on anyone's mind.

What about now? Steve knew that Nat loved him. He knew that deep in his soul. But Bruce didn't. They hadn't really broadcast the change in their relationship yet, simply because it happened so fast. Had Bruce come by to try and rekindle things with Nat? Whatever happened, it clearly upset her. Upset her to the point where she felt she had to see Clint. Steve had to admit it hurt a little bit; he wanted to be in this relationship with her. Yet, he wasn't angry. Not with _her._ Nat was just as much of a novice at this relationship business as he was. They were sure to make some mistakes.

No, he wasn't upset with Nat. But he needed to have some words with Bruce. Now.

Steve cut the engine, dousing the driveway in darkness. As far as he knew Bruce was staying in a cabin just outside the old Avengers compound. Steve wasn't sure what would happen to the place now; it was far too soon to broach the topic with Pepper. He could still see some smoke wafting from the rubble. Steve pocketed his keys as he slammed the door to his car, his jaw clenching. The whole drive up scenarios flitted through his mind, fueling his anger at Bruce. He had no idea what the man had said to Nat, but he was going to find out. Then he was going to Missouri to fix this. They'd come too far to lose everything.

"Bruce?" Steve called as he marched up the steps of the cabin. "Bruce?"

The door opened, revealing Bruce Banner with a huge apron tied around his waist. "Oh. Hi, Steve." Then he frowned. "Where's Nat?"

The man refused to look him in the eye; Steve clenched his fist. After taking a deep breath, he replied. "Gone. She went to visit Clint. Any idea why she'd leave without telling me?"

"What are you, her keeper?"

Steve ground his teeth together. He was really beginning to dislike this new and "improved" Hulk. "Of course not. But the fact that she beat my practice dummy to a pulp after you left our apartment suggests you said or did something that upset her. I want to know what it was."

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean…"

Steve didn't have time for the man's equivocation. His fist shot out and snatched the front of Bruce's shirt. "I don't care what you _meant_, Bruce," he growled. "I want to know what you _said."_

Bruce's face contorted in anger. "The fact that you _don't_ know doesn't bode well for your new relationship now, does it," he snapped back, using his superior strength to get out of Steve's grasp. Bruce moved out onto the porch, yanking the apron from his waist. "Maybe you don't know her was well as you think."

"Says the guy who took off when the going got rough."

"You don't want to do this, Cap," Bruce warned. "Just go home."

"My home is wherever she is," he declared. "I love her."

"So, what? You want to retire and have some white picket fence life with her? That's not who Nat is, Cap. She can't give you what you want. She's a monster, like me."

Anger like Steve had never felt seized him. Before he could think, he drew his fist back and swung it at Bruce's jaw. The larger man wasn't ready for it and he staggered back. Just a step. Steve didn't stop; his next punch aimed squarely at Bruce's gut. Bruce was hampered by his scorched right arm, but he caught Steve's next punch in his meaty left fist. Steve grunted as Bruce flung him aside; he landed on the ground with a hard thump.

Steve pushed himself up, launching his full body weight at Bruce. He knew he couldn't match the Hulk on pure strength, but he didn't care. Hearing the way he spoke about Nat enraged him. Just who the hell did Bruce think he was? Was he jealous? Jealous that Nat loved Steve and not him? Bruce had his chance and he threw it away. The hell with him.

The force of Steve's body sent them both sprawling. Steve was quicker, jumping up onto Bruce's chest and throwing punch after punch at his green face. Bruce flailed, trying to throw Steve off, but he was too stubborn. He grabbed Bruce's injured arm, wrenching it out of its sling. Bruce howled in pain, but he finally managed to shove Steve off him. He promptly kicked Steve in the gut, sending him flying about twenty feet. "I don't…want to hurt you…Cap," Bruce muttered, breathing hard.

"Like you hurt her," Steve spat. "What did she do to you, Bruce? Reject you? She moved on. It's not her fault you couldn't do the same."

"You don't get it, do you? You're only going to make each other miserable, Steve. What kind of a future do you see?" Bruce's face twisted with a mixture of irony and sadness. "She can't have children, Steve."

Steve pushed himself up, anger still making his whole body tremble. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nat. When she was in the Red Room, they…Steve, they sterilized her. She can't have children of her own."

Steve glared at Bruce. "And you think I give a _damn_ about that?" Good God, was that why she left? His heart twisted painfully, the final words of Peggy's letter coming back to him. They'd never had a chance to talk about it; truthfully, Steve himself hadn't thought about it. His only focus was getting Nat back, finding a way to tell her how her felt. The future seemed like a pipe dream until very, very recently. All that truly mattered to him was having Natasha by his side. He scowled at Bruce. "You were right about one thing, Bruce. You're the monster. Not her."

He wiped a trickle of blood from his jaw; headlights nearly blinded him. When he could see again, he saw a car pull up. For a moment, he thought it was Nat. Then he saw the moonlight shine off Bucky's metal arm. His best friend took in the scene. "What the hell?"

Steve brushed past Bruce; he'd heard enough. The only thing that mattered now was getting to Nat. He wasn't sure what to say or how to explain, but he couldn't lose her. Not over this. He tried to get to his car, but Bucky stopped him. "Seriously, Steve, why are you out here? What's going on?"

"It doesn't matter, Buck. I've got to go."

Sam got out of the driver's side, glancing from Bruce to Steve. "Why do I get the feeling that we're missing something?"

"Nothing to worry about, Sam." He didn't have time for this. Nat was probably at the farm by now; he needed to see her.

Another voice joined the discussion. "Well, isn't this unexpected."

Steve blinked. "Loki?"

The God of Mischief shut the car door, fully unfolding his lanky frame. He looked quite different from when Steve had last seen him, dressed in a dark suit, his long hair shorter than it had been. It seemed that life on Earth was agreeing with him. "Yes, your…friends were quite insistent my presence was required." When he clapped eyes on Bruce, he stiffened briefly, a shadow passing across his face. "That said, I can think of several places I would rather be."

He didn't have time to deal with Loki right now. "Bucky, Sam, call Thor. Let him know what's going on, okay? I've got somewhere I need to be."

Bucky stepped in front of his friend. "Steve, what's going on? Why were you fighting with the Big Guy?"

There was so much Bucky didn't know about Steve's life since getting out of the ice. Between Bucky's brainwashing as the Winter Soldier and getting Snapped away for five years, there just wasn't time. Steve wanted to explain but the desire to get to Nat was urgent. "I'll explain later, okay?"

"You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks."

Bucky lowered his voice. There were only two things he could think of that could set Steve off like this. And he'd been in Norway for the last few days. "Nat?"

Steve nodded. "It's complicated, but yeah. I'll be back soon, I promise."

That was all Bucky needed to know. "Alright. Want me to finish the job for ya?"

That got Steve to grin. "Only if you want to get your ass handed to ya." Bruce might be injured, but he was still the Hulk.

"Go get her, buddy. I'll take care of things here."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve nodded to Sam as he headed for his car; once inside, he placed a call. "Hey Pepper. I know this is a bad time, but I need a favor."

* * *

Laura heard the screen door open. "Clint? Babe, could you grab me some flour from the pantry?" When she turned, Natasha was in her kitchen. "Nat? What are you doing here?"

Nat walked around the island, hugging her friend. "Can't I come see you guys?"

Laura looked around, her eyes curious. "Of course, you can. I just wasn't expecting you so soon."

Nat knew what—or rather who—Laura was looking for. "It's just me, Laura."

"Oh. Is that…good or bad?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure." Nat sighed. She'd done a lot of thinking on the plane; by the time it was over Kentucky, she realized she should not have left. She should have stayed and talked to Steve. He deserved that much. But it was too late. Once she landed in St. Louis, she felt like the only thing she could do was finish what she started. There were several messages from Steve on her phone; she felt bad about not calling. She just didn't know what to say. "Is Clint around?"

"Out in the barn."

"Thanks." She stopped to say hello to the kids; her namesake, Nate, rushed into her arms. Nat hugged him tight, trying not to think about what caused her to come here in the first place. Once she got away, she headed for the barn. There was some banging as she approached, a muffled curse. "Clint?"

His dark head peeked out from behind the large tractor. "Nat?" Clint hurriedly wiped grease from his hands and hopped up. He closed the space between them, hugging her tight. She hugged him back, too many emotions swirling through her. As glad she was to see Clint, he wasn't the one she wanted to hug right now. Those emotions must have shown on her face, because Clint's mouth bent into a frown. "What's wrong?"

Nat sighed. "It's complicated."

Clint arched a brow. "Steve?"

"Yeah."

"Do I need to kick his star spangled ass?"

"No!" Nat laughed through her turmoil. "No, he didn't do anything." Then she blinked. "Wait. Did Laura tell you?"

Clint chuckled. "She didn't have to. I called you and Cap from the beginning, remember?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm surprised you kept yourself from gloating."

Clint sobered. "Hey, I just want you to be happy, Nat. Although, you don't look very happy right now."

Nat moved to sit on a crate. "It's complicated."

Clint sat beside her, his eyes sympathetic. "So un-complicate it, Natasha."

So, she did. She told him just about everything that happened since the family had come back to Missouri. She couldn't help but smile as she talked about Steve. He just made her happy. Yet, she couldn't ignore her doubts. Peggy, children. Her voice grew hard as she talked about Bruce; Clint cursed him on her behalf.

"You know, I think I liked him better when he was just a green rage monster," Clint observed. "This new and improved Hulk is an ass."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that."

"So, why are you here, Nat? Shouldn't you talk to Steve?"

"By the time I realized that, I was halfway here." She laughed dryly. "I really suck at this relationship thing, huh?"

Clint covered her hand with his. "You're no better or worse than everyone else. Bruce poked a sore spot, the bastard."

"What if he's right though? Kids are a big deal."

It was Clint's turn to chuckle dryly. "You know I adore my kids, Nat. I would do anything for them. Losing them and Laura…well, you saw. The person I became…I wouldn't wish that on anyone. You're not broken, Nat. You're not a lesser human because of something that was done to you against your will. If Steve can't handle that, then he's not the one. Do you understand me?"

Nat nodded. She knew he was right. She felt like a coward for leaving before she could talk to Steve. "I really, really want him to be though."

"I do too."

Her head snapped up; Steve stood in the doorway. His face was bruised, his knuckles scraped. He looked like he'd been in a fight. But none of that mattered. He was _here. _"Steve?"

"Hey Nat." Steve nodded to Clint. "Barton."

"Rogers." Clint rose, offering Nat an encouraging smile before leaving quietly. He fixed Steve with a stern stare; Steve nodded back. Despite everything, he was glad Nat had someone like that, someone who was in her corner no matter what. He knew better than most the kind of bond that formed. He had Bucky; Nat had Clint.

Then they were alone. Nat rose, twisting her hands together. "I'm sorry, Steve," she began. "I knew I made a mistake, almost the moment I left."

"You don't have to explain, Nat." Steve crossed the space and took her into his arms. She melted against him, her head resting over his heart. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I think so. But there is something we should talk about."

Steve ran his fingers through her fiery hair. "I know what happened to you, Natasha. And I don't care."

Nat frowned, reevaluating his injuries. They were healing already, but she spotted a cut on his lip. There was only one person she knew currently on earth who could hurt Steve like that. Anger boiled in her veins. "Bruce?"

Steve nodded. "I hit him first, if that makes you feel better."

She chuckled. "Strangely, it does." She ran her fingers over his chiseled jaw. "He could have hurt you, Steve."

"Maybe. Didn't really care about that in the moment. I just knew he had hurt you."

"Not hurt so much as poked a sore spot. I've been meaning to tell you for a while, I just couldn't figure out how."

Steve brushed a kiss to her brow. "You can tell me anything, Nat. You know that, right?"

She nodded. Looking into those blue eyes she loved so much, she wondered why she could have doubted him. Still, she needed to say the words. She took his hand into hers and coaxed him back to the crate she'd been perched on. "It was part of the graduation ceremony," she began. "A family was the one thing that could…distract us from the mission." She smiled ruefully. "It worked."

Steve wanted to hold her; he wanted to pummel the people who did that to her. It was wrong on so many levels. He settled for threading his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. He didn't say anything; he knew she wouldn't want his pity. His Nat was too strong for that.

"For a long time, I just…forgot. With what I did…it didn't matter. I never really expected that I could have anything that resembled a normal life, you know?" Steve nodded; there were times he felt like that too. This was a chance for both of them to have it, on their terms. "I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. But I'd understand if you want…something else."

Steve didn't like the way she looked away from him. Almost like she expected him to make a different choice. He tipped her chin up. "Nat, look at me." Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. "You are more important to me than an imaginary life you think I want. All I want is _you_. The future can be whatever we want it to be. I just know that whatever it is, I want it with you."

"But what about…?"

Steve placed a gentle finger to her lips. "What do you want, Nat?"

"I want us." That was the only thing she knew for sure. She wanted to be with Steve. After so much struggle and pain, he was her safe harbor. She didn't want to lose that, not when she'd just found it.

He smiled that boyish grin that made her heart melt. "Good, me too." He ducked down, capturing her lips in a kiss. Nat hummed, curling her fingers into his shirt. Suddenly he was too far away. She held on to him as she climbed into his lap, her lips never leaving his. Steve wrapped his arms around her waist; she was warm and soft in his arms. This was where she belonged. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Just her. They broke the kiss reluctantly, foreheads pressed together.

"Sorry I took off," she whispered.

"It's okay. We're gonna make mistakes, Nat."

"Even you?"

He laughed. "Even me. But as long as we love each other, we can work it out, okay?"

There was only one thing she could say to that. "I love you, Steve."

"I love you too, Natasha. Now, how about we go see Clint? Before he shoots me?"

Nat's happy laugh warmed his heart. "Good call…uncle Steve."

He mock groaned. "Already?"

"Better get used to it, soldier. They're a demanding bunch."

"You'll show me the ropes?"

"You got it." She hopped off his lap and slipped her hand into his. Together, they left the barn and headed for the house; the future could wait until tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** And we're back! Apologies for the slowness of updates; real life has me slammed. I hope you enjoy this update!

**Disclaimer:** Who do we pay to get Markus and McFeely to stop talking?

**Chapter 5**

Nat leaned against the post; her fingers curled around a glass of iced tea. She squinted against the bright sunlight, just observing. Clint and Lyla were out by the huge oak tree, taking target practice. Steve was showing the boys how to properly chop wood…and being very distracting. He hadn't brought any clothes with him, so he'd been forced to borrow some of Clint's. All of which were too small for Steve's larger frame. Every swing of the axe caused the material of his t-shirt to strain, threatening to tear at the seams.

It was driving her crazy.

"He seems much more comfortable," Laura observed, wiping her hands on her apron. "The boys adore him."

Nat smiled. "He's easy to love."

Laura brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm beginning to see that." She was happy for her friend. Nat deserved to be happy. From what she'd seen over the last few days, Steve certainly made Natasha happy. They couldn't stop glancing at each other across the room, sharing a smile or a wink. They played with the kids; Steve helped little Nate learn how to properly throw a baseball. He was a little shy at first, but in less than a day, her kids were thoroughly enamored with their Uncle Steve.

"It's peaceful out here," Nat said.

"Yeah, it is." It was the perfect place for a spy to hide his family away. Laura never resented Clint's work, nor the time it took him from her. She loved her life on the farm; however, she understood that it wasn't enough for her husband. He needed to do his job; he needed to help people. She knew Nat and Steve were the same. They would never be happy in a place like this. First, Steve was a city boy. That was evident the first time the boys tried to coax him onto their tractor. Poor man had no idea what he was doing; Clint finally took pity on him. No, the farm was a place to visit, not live.

Second, they had their mission. They never talked about it—at least not in front of her—but Laura could tell, all the same. As the days passed, restlessness permeated the air. It was the same restlessness that made Clint do all remodeling on their house.

"When do you leave?"

Nat glanced away. "In a couple of hours. Pepper's sending a chopper to take us to the airport."

"Must be nice to have friends in high places," Laura teased.

"Your friends too, you know." When they got back, Nat wanted to go visit Pepper, see how she was doing. She also wanted to thank her for letting Steve borrow one of the Stark jets; they owed her one.

"That all seems so far away out here, but yeah. I guess you're right."

"Once we get settled, you should bring the kids out to visit."

"Steve's already promised to take them to a Mets' game."

Nat smiled to herself. "Oh, he did, did he? I hope there's room for one more." She'd never been to a baseball game, but going with Steve? That sounded like fun.

"I hope so. He's going to need help wrangling them."

"Nah. He's getting the hang of it." They hadn't spoken anymore about the topic that caused them to come all the way out here, but Nat didn't mind. It wasn't exactly a conversation she was keen to have. Just knowing that he would be there by her side was enough.

"You guys are gonna be alright," Laura said confidently. "He's a good one, Nat."

Nat set her glass aside. "My only regret is that we didn't figure all this out sooner. We could have been together a long time ago."

"I believe things work out exactly the way they're meant to," Laura replied. "Now you've got a future to look forward to."

Steve caught her eye from the yard; he waved. Natasha waved back, a silly grin on her face. Laura was right. They had so much to be excited about. After giving it a lot of thought, they'd decided to find a place of their own. Nat liked Steve's apartment, but it wasn't really built for two. After the drama, they both felt the need for a fresh start. And not just for themselves. But for the team. Thanos might be gone, but there were other threats out there.

They owed it to Tony to keep their world safe.

* * *

The moment they were at cruising altitude, Steve unbuckled his seatbelt. "Tired, Nat?"

She chuckled, stretching out in her seat. "I don't know if that's the word I would use."

He smirked. "And what word would you use, Natasha?"

"Hmm, relaxed maybe?"

"I don't know if I'd call the last few days relaxed." He glanced out the window, surprised at how peaceful he felt. When he last sat on this plane, he worried about losing Nat for good. Now it felt like there was nothing they couldn't accomplish, as long as they were together. When he looked back on the last few years, he realized it had always been that way. Ever since New York, they'd had each other's backs. They shared highs and lows, each other's constant in an ever-changing world.

Why the hell had it taken him so long to see what was right in front of him?

"What would you call them?"

"Eye opening?"

"That's an interesting word choice." She stood up and ran her fingers over his cheekbone. "They weren't that hard on you, were they?"

Steve laughed. "Barton's kids? Nah." He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her into his lap. A giggle erupted from her throat as she landed with a thump. "You on the other hand, Agent Romanoff…"

"What?"

"I've never seen you so at peace," he said, the tease fading from his voice. "I realized Aunt Nat was a side of you I've never seen. I like it."

"They're good kids."

"Well, as good as they can be considered they carry half of Barton's DNA," Steve joked.

Nat's melodic laugh rang through the cabin. "I'm so telling him you said that."

"I'm sure Laura would agree with me. How does she put up with that guy?" Steve was teasing, of course. He liked Barton well enough. While they might never be _close_, Steve considered him a friend. He didn't condone what Barton did during the last five years, but it wasn't his place to judge either. All of them had done things they weren't proud of.

"The same way I put up with you, I suppose," Nat shot back.

"Hey! I am nowhere near as insufferable as Barton!" A pause. "Am I?"

Nat laughed. "You have your moments, Rogers."

"You are joking, right now, right?"

"Yes, Steve. I'm joking." He did have a few quirks that she was still getting used to (the man was tidy to a fault, it was maddening), but she loved him anyway. She brushed her lips over the corner of his mouth. "You came after me."

"I'm not losing you again, Natasha. Once was more than enough."

"And I don't want to be lost."

He cupped her cheek and drew her lips down to his. The kiss was soft, tender; Nat's chest ached. She couldn't believe just how much things had changed. She'd stopped dreaming about a normal life; there was no point. Now? It was all she wanted. On her terms, at least.

"I love you, Steve," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. The Red Room taught her that emotions were weakness; there was no room for them. There was only the mission. She'd been plucked from her family before she could remember them, raised to be a tool, a killing machine. She'd done so many terrible things at the behest of others. It wasn't until Clint found her that she considered another path. That path led her here. By some miracle, Steve thought there was something in her worth loving.

"Love you too, Nat. More than I can say." He'd lost so much; this was something he'd gotten back. This relationship thing was just as new for him as it was for her; he was sure they would make many more mistakes. But he'd meant what he said; as long as they loved each other, he was sure they could get through whatever the world threw at them.

Nat cupped his cheeks and drew his mouth to hers. The depth of love she saw in his blue eyes was still stunning to her; she wanted so desperately to be worthy of his love. Steve slid his hands over her slim waist; she felt perfect in his arms. They'd had precious little time alone while visiting the Bartons'; he missed the feel of her in his arms. Nat shifted in his lap, never breaking their kiss, until she was straddling him. A growl caught in his throat; she boldly nipped at his lips. _"Nat."_

She smirked, resting her hands on his chest. "What?"

"You do enjoy playing with fire, don't you?" With his hasty departure from New York, he assured Pepper that he didn't need any staff on the plane. All he needed was a pilot to fly it. He got what he wanted, which meant they were completely alone.

"With you? Absolutely." She was the only person who got to see this side of Steve Rogers; she was greedy enough to seek it out whenever she could. For the first time in almost a week, they were alone. She captured his lips again, sighing as his huge hands dipped under her shirt. His rough palms felt delicious against her soft skin. "Steve…"

She couldn't stay still; her wiggling was driving him crazy. "Yes, Natasha?"

"How would you feel about joining the Mile High Club?" she whispered, catching his earlobe between her teeth.

Steve groaned; it took his mind a few moments to catch up. He'd seen enough modern popular culture to know what she meant. At first, the idea had taken him aback, but he was beginning to see the appeal. Especially with Natasha. "We do have this whole place to ourselves," he pointed out with a grin. "Seems a shame to waste it."

Nat wet her lips; she definitely liked this naughtier side of Steve Rogers. Without another word, she crossed her arms and pulled her shirt over her head. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, sliding it down her arms and tossing it to the floor. Steve's nostrils flared; his blue eyes darkened to a deep cobalt. She drew his hands to her chest, biting her lip as he gently thumbed her nipples. Steve leaned in; his lips brushed along her collarbone. Nat sank her fingers into his hair and arched into his touch. Her core throbbed; she ached for him. Natasha rocked her hips against him; the seam of her jeans and his growing erection rubbed her perfectly.

She muttered something in Russian he didn't catch; he really needed her to teach him some of her native tongue. He wanted to understand those little things she whispered when he touched her. He slid his hands down her back, forcing her to arch closer. He took one nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue until she gasped in pleasure. He couldn't get enough of the sounds she made or the way she tasted. Her fingers tugged on his hair, sending a shudder of need down his spine. "Nat," he growled. He could feel her heat through their jeans; he needed more of her.

Nat rocked harder against him. "Make me come," she panted, need building in her core. "Please."

Steve yanked open her jeans and eased back her underwear. He found her slick and hot, quickly drenching his fingers. Nat ground against his hand, biting hard on her lip as Steve stroked her swollen nub. She gripped his massive shoulders, anchoring herself to his frame as she sought her pleasure. Her first orgasm blossomed out from her core, sizzling through her blood. Steve slipped two fingers into her core as her walls continued to spasm, dragging another high from her hard on the heels of the first. She cried out, riding his fingers hard. "Fuck, fuck," she panted. "Yes."

Steve peppered her flushed skin with kisses, reveling in her pleasure. He needed her desperately, but he enjoyed her pleasure more than his own. "My beautiful Natasha," he murmured against her throat.

Nat licked her lips, her body still craving more of his touch. "All yours," she agreed. She drew his mouth back to hers, kissing him deeply. Fisting his shirt, she tugged it over his head, biting back her whine of complaint as his hand was freed from her pants. Once she tossed the too tight material aside, she raked her nails down his chest. Steve hissed; his cock throbbed in response.

Nat slithered off her lover's lap and shimmed out of her pants and shoes. She'd never been especially shy about her body, but the way Steve drank her in was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Steve didn't merely desire her body. When he looked at her, he was looking into her soul. He looked and he wasn't afraid of what he saw there. He saw her light and her darkness, and he loved all of it. Steve was the best person she knew, and he loved her.

Nat dropped to her knees and eased his legs apart. She leaned in and placed a kiss directly over his racing heart. Steve groaned and leaned back, sliding down into the seat. Nat's lips were warm and soft against his skin; it felt like licks of fire burning him from the inside out. He yelped as her tongue laved at his nipple; it felt like an electric shock. "Fuck."

She smirked, stroking him through his jeans. "How long is our flight?"

How was he supposed to think when she was touching him like that? "A couple of hours?" he guessed.

"Good." She kissed her way down his belly, enjoying the way his muscles trembled under her touch. She unbuttoned his pants and quickly freed his impressive cock. Steve groaned and bucked into her touch, weaving his fingers into her soft red tresses. He couldn't tear his eyes away as she ran short licks along his length, moaning at the velvety softness of his skin. She kept her eyes locked on his as she lapped at him, swirling her tongue around the swollen head. Steve shuddered, her warm wet mouth making him crazy.

"Nat," he breathed. Her hair was soft between his fingers, the red fiery against her pale skin. He'd missed it when she dyed it blonde. The red suited her much better.

She kissed the swollen tip, tasting his salty precum. "Easy, soldier," she chided. "I'm nowhere near done with you."

"Jesus," he breathed, dropping his head back against the chair. A loud moan tumbled from his lips as she took him into her mouth, sucking greedily on the belled head. He breathed deeply, using all his considerable discipline _not_ to buck into her mouth. It was everything he'd imagined, warm and wet; he wanted more. Nat hummed around him, her body reacting to his obvious pleasure. Wetness slid down her thighs; need coiled low in her belly. She went slow, enjoying all the little sounds he made, the way his body trembled. Steve's life revolved around control; she wanted to show him that he didn't need that control with her. He could be everything with her.

She swirled her tongue around him as she took him deeper into her mouth. Steve was larger than any lover she'd ever had; she couldn't take him all. Yet. Just the idea of trying set her body on fire.

Steve hung on by a thread. If she didn't stop soon, he wouldn't last. "Nat…fuck. _Fuck."_

She released him with a pop. "Yes, Steve?"

"Need you," he gasped, breathing hard. "Please."

She could sense how tightly wound he was; she needed him just as badly. "Yes."

Steve stood on unsteady legs and quickly shoved his pants down. He kicked them away hastily and picked Natasha up like she weighed nothing. He spun them around and pinned her against the back of the leather seat. He didn't need to test to see if she was ready; he could feel her slickness coating his cock. Nat wrapped her legs around his slim waist and rocked against him. "Please, Steve. Please."

He slid one hand under her ass to hold her steady as he lined up and took her in a single deep stroke. Their twin groans of pleasure echoed in the cabin; Nat arched against the chair. Steve's lips latched onto her throat, sucking deeply as his hips pistoned hard and fast. Nat moaned his name, clinging to his neck. Steve filled her like no one else ever had, his long thick cock stretching her deliciously.

"Fuck, Nat," he growled, his balls tightening as she dug her heels into his back. She was strong, stronger than most people gave her credit for, and he loved it.

"Harder," she pleaded. "Fuck me harder, Steve!"

His fingers tightened their hold, digging into her soft flesh. He did as she bid, taking her with firm deep strokes. He ground against her clit with every drive; quickly, her walls began to flutter. Nat fused her mouth to his as she climaxed; stifling her scream of pleasure. She squeezed him mercilessly; she was perfect. Steve rode her through her high, chasing his own. He bent them further over the chair, changing the angle of his thrusts. Nat cried out, another orgasm ripping through her. Steve muttered something that sounded like her name as he followed, every cell of his body alight with pleasure.

Nat clung to her lover's neck, panting. Blood still rushed in her ears; her heart thudded in her chest. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, just as rapid. Steve buried his face in her shoulder, not ready to let her go. She smelled like vanilla and sex; it was a heady combination.

"Good first time?" she panted.

"Huh?" Steve muttered, confused.

"Mile High Club," she reminded him.

"Oh. Right," he chuckled. "I forgot." He truly had. The when and where didn't matter to him. Just being with Natasha was enough. After living like a virtual monk for so long, it felt like he was making up for lost time. Especially with the woman in his arms. He'd waited his whole life for her; he wasn't letting her go.

Once he got his breath back, he carried them back to his seat. "We should probably get dressed."

"Are you cold?" Nat asked.

"I don't really get cold that much," he confided. After being frozen in ice for seventy years, cold didn't bother him.

She ran a finger along his jaw. "Yeah, I get that." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Getting shy on me, Rogers?"

"There is a pilot on the other side of that bulkhead," he pointed out. His own boldness shocked him; he'd always been shy with women. But never with Nat. She brought out a side of him that he never knew existed. He liked it.

"It's not like he can stop flying the plane," she teased. "I think we're good."

He chuckled. "What have you done to me, Agent Romanoff?"

"I like to think I get to see the real Steve Rogers," she admitted. "The man behind the shield."

He touched his forehead to hers. "You do," he confirmed. She'd been there for every upheaval in his life since they found him in the ice. She didn't know the man Peggy knew. Nat knew the man he was now. The things he'd lived through changed him. Perhaps not at his core—he was still the skinny kid who hated bullies—but in other ways. He'd become skeptical of authority, more stubborn, less patient with bullshit. "I think you always have."

Nat kissed his cheek. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"I like to think so." They'd both fought hard to get to this point; Steve could see a future laid out before them, ready to be shaped however they wanted. He couldn't wait for it to start.

* * *

The moment they landed Steve's phone buzzed. "Rogers."

"Hey Steve."

"Hey Buck. Is anything wrong?" Nat arched a brow at him, but Steve shrugged.

"Why would you think something's wrong?"

Steve sighed. "Sorry. Habit."

"How did it go?"

"Nat's right here." He glanced at her. "Wanna say hi to Bucky?"

Nat grinned. "Hi, Bucky," she called.

Bucky laughed. "Tell her we took care of the Big Green Meanie for her."

"I am not telling her that," Steve said flatly. "You didn't actually fight him, did you?"

Bucky let out a dry chuckle. "I know my head's been screwed with but I'm not that crazy."

Steve chuckled. "Good. I'd hate to have to clean up after you." For all their joking, Steve was thankful for Bucky's support. It was nice to have his best friend back. "Where's Sam?"

"Scouting."

"Scouting what?"

"I'll tell you when you guys get here," Bucky said mysteriously. "I just wanted you to know everything was good."

"Well…thanks. Did you get a hold of the _Benatar?"_ It amused Nat to no end that Quill had named his ship after the 80s singer. It amused her even more that she had to explain to Steve who that was.

"Yeah, we did actually. Thor seemed skeptical, but they're on their way back."

"Really? That's great, Buck. Thanks." He really couldn't blame Thor for being skeptical. Nat's return, Loki being back from the dead, it did sound kind of insane. Steve wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't lived it. He slipped his hand into Nat's. "We should be home soon. Just going by to see Pepper first."

"That's a good idea."

"But when we get back, we should do something. Hang out."

Bucky laughed. "Think you can leave your girl long enough for that?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Stuff it, Buck."

"I'm happy for you, man. Truly."

"I know." They said goodbye and hung up.

"What was that about?"

"Thor and the Guardians are on their way back," he informed her.

"How'd he take it? Thor?" She knew that Loki's return would be more monumental to their friend than hers. She wasn't offended. Loki was his brother; they'd known each other for more than a thousand years.

"Bucky said he was skeptical. Guess I can't really blame him. It's a lot to take in."

Nat nodded. "Yeah. It'll be good to see him though." She missed him. Thor had changed a lot over the last five years; she wished she'd made more of an effort to be there for him.

"I know what you're thinking," Steve observed as they walked through the terminal. He kept her hand in his, even though it wasn't necessary. Most people recognized him and cleared a path. "I've been thinking it since he came back from Norway."

"What's that?"

"That I failed him. I should have been a better friend. Gone to visit. Something."

"We were all in a bad place, Steve."

"That's not an excuse."

"I'm not saying it is. But beating yourself up about it won't change the past." She knew that better than most. The only thing to do was resolve to do better in the future.

"I know you're right, I just…hate all that lost time." He couldn't help but think of Tony. They'd only just reconciled. Then his friend was gone. Tony called resentment corrosive and he was right. Steve never wanted to allow that into his life again.

To their surprise, Pepper was waiting for them outside the private terminal. She was alone; Nat wondered where Morgan was. "Hey."

Nat released Steve and hugged her friend. "Hey. How are you?"

Pepper still had dark circles under her eyes, but they were clear. Steve could only imagine how difficult this was for her. "Okay," she replied honestly. "I needed to get out of the house."

Steve hugged her. "How's Morgan?"

Pepper smiled. "She's good. They're talking about having her skip a grade at school."

"Genius like her dad," Nat said fondly. "We'll come by and see her soon, okay?"

"I think she'd like that." Pepper glanced down and spotted their joined hands. "Everything okay?"

Steve and Nat shared a look; they were both thinking the same thing. Guilt. Just a little. It felt wrong that they were getting a second chance when Tony was gone. No one felt Tony's loss more keenly than the woman in front of them. "Um, Pepper," Nat began.

She held up a hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say. You two deserve this. I'm happy for you. Truly." She looked thoughtful. "Tony would be too."

"It wouldn't stop him from making a joke about it," Steve observed, feeling the weight of his sadness lift a little.

Pepper chuckled. "True. You guys are family, you know. Tony never said anything, but I know he missed you. I'm so glad you got to have another adventure together."

How could she be glad about the mission that cost her so much? "I'm still sorry, Pepper. About everything."

Pepper reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't be a stranger, okay? You need anything—anything at all—you call me. Anything I can do to help. Tony would want that, and I do too." Her smile was surprisingly warm as she turned and walked away.

Steve watched her leave, his blue eyes thoughtful. "Tony was a lucky bastard."

Nat smiled. "Yeah. I never thought I'd see him settle down, have a family. He was happy."

"He was a hero too."

Nat squeezed his hand; she could feel the guilt and regret coming off him in waves. "Not bad for a billionaire playboy philanthropist, huh?"

Despite everything, Steve smiled. "Not bad at all."

* * *

"_The stone lies in front of you."_

_Steve peered over the edge of the cliff, his whole being radiating mistrust. This was Red Skull. No way could his word be trusted. "What's the catch?"_

_Nat stepped back from the edge. "What makes you think there's a catch?"_

_Steve glanced at his old enemy. Schmidt might be a weird floaty thing now, but Steve wasn't going to follow him blindly. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. "There's always a catch. What did Nebula call this place?"_

"_A bastion of death." Nat sat on a nearby outcropping. "We're missing something." She cradled her head in her hands, trying to think. Nearby, Steve paced. She wished he would stop; it was distracting. _

_Steve lost track of how long they remained up there, studying the dilemma in front of them. He had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. He couldn't explain it, but the dread that settled in his stomach didn't lie. But they needed to do something soon; they were running out of time._

"_Go over it again," he demanded of the specter. "Tell us how to get the stone."_

"_To obtain the stone, you must lose that which you love," the thing that used to be Schmidt intoned gravely. "An everlasting exchange."_

_Unbidden, Steve's gaze was drawn to Nat. She wasn't looking at him; she was gnawing her lip thoughtfully. It would have been cute if things weren't so damn dire._

"_Of course," she murmured finally. "Thanos left here with the stone but without his daughter." She looked at Steve. "He sacrificed her for the stone."_

"_Yeah, well, he's evil," Steve muttered. _

_Nat stood. "It's not that," she said firmly, hands on her hips. Her braid fell down her back, little wisps of red hair dipped in gold blowing in the breeze. "It was what he was willing to do. The question is: what are we willing to do? Whatever it takes, remember?"_

_He gaped at her. She couldn't be implying what he thought she was implying! "No, Nat. There has to be another way."_

_She closed the gap between them, thrusting her chin out. "There isn't, Steve. Deep down, you know that. We both know what has to happen here."_

_He gazed in her eyes, awed by her strength, yet terrified of the knowledge that welled up in his chest. He loved her. Not in a friend way. Not in one-who-got-away way. He _loved_ her. And now she wanted to sacrifice herself to bring everyone back._

_He couldn't allow it._

"_I guess we do," he conceded._

_Nat watched the look in his eyes change. There was something there she couldn't place. Or something she just didn't want to see. It would make this so much harder. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about the same thing here?"_

_Steve tossed his shield aside. He wouldn't need it. "Don't try to stop me, Romanoff. This is what I do." This would be no different than it was in '45. Only this time there would be no resurrections. No ice to protect him._

_He was surprised at how peaceful he felt in that moment. He stole one final look at her beautiful face then started running for the edge of the cliff._

"_Oh no, you don't!" Nat yelled. She dashed after him, firing off one of her stingers. It hit Steve square in the back, toppling him over with a thud. He twitched as she stepped over him, struggling to rise. "You have to let me do this, Steve. Every moment of the last five years has been for this." She offered him a smile, drinking in his handsome face. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but perhaps it was better left unsaid. _

_She didn't want anyone to mourn her._

_She turned and started for the edge. Steve managed to kick his leg out just in time, sending her sprawling. They wrestled, kicking, punching, both trying to restrain the other long enough to make the jump. In the chaos, neither realized just how close to the edge they were. Steve spotted it just in time and flung Nat as far away from him as he could. Then, with one final look in her direction, he jumped._

_Wind roared in his ears; the ground rushed toward him. He heard a pop, but before he could twist to find the source, he got punched in the back. With the grace of a cat, Nat latched the grappling hook into his belt, instantly halting Steve's momentum. He grunted as his body jerked; he thrust out his hand at the last second, catching Nat before she could fall. _

"_Damn you, Romanoff," he growled. "What the hell are you doing?"_

_She smiled up at him, but he could see the tears that welled in her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted, but she was determined. Giving her life in exchange for everyone felt like a small price to pay. "Whatever it takes."_

_He wished he'd never said that! This wasn't what he wanted! "Nat, Natasha," he breathed, holding on as tight as he could. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose another person he loved. "Don't do this."_

"_It's okay, Steve."_

"_Like hell it is!"_

"_You have to let me go," she said softly. She started swinging a little, pushing off from the cliff edge. Steve clung to her with all his considerable strength. This wasn't happening! It was supposed to be him, damn it!_

"_Nat, no!"_

_With one final push, Nat let go of his hand and disappeared through the mist. A gut wrenching howl erupted from his throat, his heart twisting in agony._

Nat's eyes flew open as something heavy kicked her from behind. It took a moment for her sleepy brain to catch up; Steve was thrashing next to her. Was he having a nightmare? She'd never seen him have one before, but after everything they'd been through, surely even someone as strong as Steve would carry scars. She turned to face him and roughly shook his shoulder. "Steve! Steve, wake up!"

Steve's eyes shot open, his heart racing a mile a minute. It was dark but he could make out Nat's concerned eyes thanks to the serum. "Nat?"

A surprised gush of air left her as his huge arms wrapped around her and crushed her to his chest. She hugged him back, more worried than ever. "Bad dream?"

He ducked his head to the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "Yeah," he confirmed. There was no point in hiding it.

"It's okay now," she soothed. She made no protest as he lifted her into his lap and cradled her against him. Whatever the nightmare was about, she had a feeling it had to do with her. "I'm right here."

His lips caressed her temple. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'll be alright in a minute." He just wanted to hold her, remind himself that she was alive and in his arms.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She wasn't good at this sort of thing, but if she was going to make a real go at this relationship thing, then she wanted to at least try to do it right.

He was silent for quite a while, his hand stroking up and down her spine. Her only clothing was one of his t-shirts; she was warm through the fabric. She leaned on him and tucked her head under his chin, choosing not to push. She knew from hard experience that you couldn't force someone to talk. You had to be patient.

Steve waited until his heart returned to its normal rhythm. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her falling. The memory of his heart being shredded felt so real; holding her now felt like a dream. Nat drew his free hand in her lap and squeezed gently. "Sorry," he said again.

"You don't have to apologize."

He ran his fingers through her hair; he was surprised how much it soothed him. Then again, he'd always loved her hair. "It was Vormir," he said softly.

"My least favorite place in the whole universe."

Steve smiled into her hair. It was so like her to try to make light of any situation she found herself in. She balanced him out in that way. "We were there together. It was me instead of Barton."

Nat inhaled sharply. Oh. _Oh._ "I'm so sorry, Steve."

"I couldn't stop you," he whispered. "I tried, I tried so hard. I couldn't lose you. I _can't_ lose you. Not again."

Nat silenced him with a kiss. The agony he'd felt was clear in his voice; her heart squeezed painfully. The last thing she wanted was to cause him any more pain. They kissed until they were both breathless, with Nat now straddling his legs. "I'm here," she promised. "You saved me, remember?"

He nodded, pressing his forehead to hers. He'd had a long talk with Laura about the cause of Nat's trip to the farm. One day while Nat and Clint took the kids into town to do some shopping, they had a long talk over some homemade lemonade. She never raised her voice; she didn't need to. Steve could see that Nat was like a sister to her. He didn't blame Laura for wanting to be sure of Steve's intentions.

But he meant what he'd said to Nat. Her ability to have children did not affect how he felt about her. Truthfully, children were the furthest thing from his mind. The Steve Rogers that went into the ice might have wanted a traditional life, but that man was gone. He'd changed. The world around him had changed. Natasha was more than enough to make him happy. He could sense she still doubted that on some level. That she was enough.

Besides, there were a multitude of ways to have a family. They already had a pretty large family. He wanted the two of them to be their own little family. He just needed _her._

He stroked her cheek. "You are all I need, Natasha. I need you to know that."

She leaned into his touch. "I'm slowly starting to believe that." The scar of what was done to her in the Red Room would always be there; she accepted that. She couldn't undo it. The sincerity she saw in Steve's eyes was real. It meant a lot to her, but she knew herself well enough that there would be moments she doubted. The specter of her past would always be there.

He smiled that slightly lopsided grin she loved so much. "Well, then I'll just have to keep saying it."

"I'm fine with that." She glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was almost four in the morning. "Should we try to go back to sleep?"

With each moment she spent in his arms, the terror from his nightmare faded. She was _right here_. Soft and warm and alive. She loved him. That was all that mattered. "As long as you don't mind snuggling?"

She grinned into the dark. If someone had said that to her a year ago, she'd have said they were crazy. Now, it felt right. "With you? Never."

* * *

Steve brought the bottle to his lips and took a healthy sip. The beer couldn't get him drunk, but that wasn't the point. Bucky and Sam sat nearby doing the same. It was a gorgeous day outside; it would be a shame to spend it inside. When Pepper offered to let them use the area around the cabin as a makeshift headquarters, Steve tried to refuse. He was sure that having Avengers coming and going would be a painful reminder of what she'd lost. But when Pepper promised to help, she meant it. It was only temporary, until they could find something more permanent. Nat and Sam had started going through a list of Stark owned property to see if there was anything useful. They were also considering rebuilding at the old site, but there was talk about making that into some sort of memorial. Steve wasn't sure that would come to fruition, but he understood people's need to have a place to honor Tony's sacrifice.

For him, the greatest honor he could pay his friend was to live.

Tony had found happiness, sharing a life with Pepper and Morgan. He'd found a measure of peace in that life. Steve now had a chance at something similar. He couldn't believe he'd almost thrown this away for a shadow of his old life. Having experienced the future, how could he have been so naïve to think he'd have been happy in the past? He'd have Peggy, but he would have gotten frustrated. He wouldn't have been able to stand by and let terrible things happen. It wasn't how he was wired.

This was where his future lay; he understood that now.

"You look deep in thought, Cap," Sam said carefully.

Steve half shrugged. "Nothing too earth shattering, Sam. Just reflecting."

"He's always been that way," Bucky assured Sam. "Although it was usually because he'd just gotten his ass kicked again."

Sam chuckled. "I have a hard time seeing you as some scrawny kid from Brooklyn," he admitted. "I mean, I know what they did to you, but man, Steve. You're…Captain America!"

"For the record, I did not choose the name," he huffed. "It just kinda stuck."

"I think it suits you," Bucky said with a grin.

Steve scowled at his best friend and tossed one of the little cakes Pepper left them at Bucky's head. Bucky caught it with ease and stuffed it into his mouth, his eyes filled with mischief.

Sam rolled his eyes at the pair of them. He was happy that Steve had gotten his best friend back. He could admit to being a little jealous of Barnes at first. Although, to be fair, the man was trying to kill them when Sam first met him. The lengths Steve was willing to go for the other man floored him. But Sam also admired him for it. Steve always fought for what he believed in; he was the person you couldn't help but follow. Sam knew he'd made the right choice when he threw his lot in with Steve and Nat all those years ago. Even back then, he sensed that something was going on between them, though he never said anything. He figured they'd sort it out eventually.

Then came Thanos and everything changed.

Coming back was hard to describe. He came back exactly where he'd left, crouched on the ground in Wakanda. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. T'Challa found him first, muttering something about a sorcerer and five years and a battle. Sam hadn't needed to know much more than that; if there was trouble, then that was where he needed to be. The battle they walked into was unlike anything Sam had ever seen; sometimes he was still shocked that they won.

Of course, you couldn't live through something like that and not bond with people who had shared experience. Bucky had been Snapped too; as Steve's best friends, they made an unspoken agreement to let bygones be bygones. Over the last few weeks, Sam discovered he actually liked the bastard, even though they still bickered. It was their thing.

"How much longer do you think?" Sam asked. They weren't visiting Pepper and little Morgan for the hell of it. While they'd put in a little work into the small house on the edge of the property, Sam knew it wasn't permanent. That said, it was a better option than the old compound. Bruce still lived out there; he wasn't exactly on Sam's nice list at the moment.

"Rocket's transmission said they'd be here late afternoon our time," Steve replied, glancing up at the sky. He'd been to space, but it was still a little surreal that they had friends who considered it home.

"I'm not sure what freaks me out more, the raccoon or the talking tree."

"He's not a raccoon," a new voice said.

The trio looked up and saw Clint approaching. "Barton."

Sam quirked a brow at the newcomer. "So, what is he then?"

Clint didn't miss a beat. "Not a raccoon, Wilson." And that was that.

* * *

Nat snatched up the next file; she could already feel a headache building behind her eyes. She'd been at it for a couple of hours now, just killing time. Pepper was being very generous with Stark Industries resources; Nat didn't want to take that for granted. She wasn't sure that if their roles were reversed that she could do the same.

That said, she and Steve were in agreement. They didn't want to stay here any longer than was necessary. Choosing a new headquarters was a top priority. The world was quiet, for now. But Nat knew in her gut that it wouldn't stay that way. Eventually, the world would need the Avengers once again.

"Honeymoon over already, Agent Romanoff?"

Nat nearly jumped out of her skin. It took a _lot_ to sneak up on her; her visitor was probably one of the few beings in the universe that could accomplish it successfully. Not that it made her feel any better. She had a reputation to maintain after all. When she turned, she found the God of Mischief leaning casually against the doorframe. He was dressed in a crisp suit; his inky black hair was much shorter than she remembered. He could almost pass for a mundane human businessman. Almost. There was a subtle aura of power that radiated off him, one that instantly made her wary.

After all, the last time she'd seen him, he'd been trying to kill them all.

"Loki."

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

Nat scoffed. "I think your definition of friend and mine are very different."

A look of contrition flitter across his face. "Indeed, Agent Romanoff."

She set the file aside. It was an odd feeling, seeing Loki after all this time. She was painfully aware that their very existence was intimately linked. Steve had to save Loki in order to bring her back. He was the price Steve paid. She knew that Steve felt responsible for the Asgardian. Loki must have kept his word to lay low during the last five years; the world to which she returned was the same as the one she left, aside from all the Snapped people being back. He clearly hadn't tried anymore mad schemes to take over or anything like that.

Perhaps he really had changed.

"I can see you thinking, Agent Romanoff."

She crossed her arms. "Can you blame me?"

Loki shook his head. "No, I suppose not. But I should think that you more than most can appreciate the desire to change for the better."

He had a point. "You're right. I hadn't thought of it that way."

Loki crossed the room and took a seat across from her. "You still haven't answered my question. I would have expected you and the captain to be…what's the phrase you humans use? Glued at the hip?"

She smirked. "You have learned a lot in the last few years."

"I like to read."

"You seem overly invested in me and Steve."

He shrugged. "Merely curious. He was quite…convincing when he asked for my help."

"I can imagine." She drummed her fingers on the table. "We're good," she conceded. "He's spending some time with his friends." Sam was her friend too, but she'd insisted on giving them some boys' time. Steve had missed so much time with them, especially Bucky. There would be plenty of time for her to get to know the former Winter Soldier better.

"While you go through files?"

"I'm…" She rolled her eyes. "And what are you doing out here? The _Benatar_ will be here any minute." When Loki glanced away, a light bulb went off in her head. "You're nervous."

Loki threaded his long fingers together. "What could I possibly have to be nervous about?"

"Seeing the brother who's believed you dead for the last five years? Hell, I've only been gone for a little while and I'm nervous." It was true. She'd missed her friends more than she wanted to admit. When Steve first told her that Thor had left with the Guardians, she'd been sad but happy that he was trying to find a new path. Yet, she missed him. She liked to joke about getting emails from a raccoon, but she missed Rocket too. His brand of dry sarcasm was refreshing. Everyone who survived the Snap was bonded in a way that no one else could fathom. They'd been the ones who tried to pick up the pieces and move forward. They didn't succeed very well, but they did try.

Now, they needed to navigate a whole new reality.

"I'm sure Thor's gotten on just fine."

"You know that's not true."

Loki sighed. "He'll never forgive me for staying away." Loki knew that he'd had no other choice, lest the fabric of reality unravel. Events needed to happen just as they always had. But that wouldn't matter to Thor. His brother could be stubborn that way. They'd already lost their parents, a sister they didn't even know they had. Not to mention half their people. Well, Thor's people. Loki had no idea how the remaining Asgardians would react to his return. And to say that he didn't care would be a lie. Frost Giant he may be, but Asgard was the only home he'd known for almost a millenia. It was gone. Thor was the only thing he had left.

"I think you'd be surprised." She thought that Clint wouldn't forgive her for jumping on Vormir, but she was wrong. He was only happy she was back. She suspected Thor would be the same.

A proximity warning blared. Nat glanced at the nearby console; something big was approaching the area. "I think we're both about to find out."

Nat led the way outside; she could see Steve, Sam Bucky and Clint approaching from the north. She waved; Steve's answering smile warmed her all the way to her toes. Would she ever get tired of him looking at her like that? She hoped not.

"I've never seen a spaceship before," Sam commented as they waited for the _Benatar_ to land.

"It's not like the movies," Steve assured him. Nat slipped her hand in his, squeezing gently. He squeezed back as he squinted up at the sky. "And definitely not like anything on earth."

"The name's weird," Bucky said. "Who names their ship Benatar?"

"Someone who's a fan of cheesy 80s music," Nat said. "Quill's from Earth, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Bucky himself was still catching up on all the things he'd missed while under HYDRA's control. He was mildly offended that Steve was more culturally advanced than him. He used to be the one who dragged his buddy to see the latest movie or invention. Now Steve had friends who came from outer space. It was staggering.

"I'll explain it later," Steve told Bucky with a grin. It was nice to see Bucky be the person who was confused for a change.

"Shut up, Steve."

Steve laughed. He couldn't help but feel that things were starting to fall into place. He had Bucky back, Nat was tucked into his side like she'd always been there, the world was starting to right itself from the havoc Thanos had wrought. This was where he belonged.

The _Benatar_ blocked the sun briefly as she approached. The wind whipped up as the ship slowly descended into the clearing. It had a few more scorch marks than the last time Steve had seen it. Had the Guardians gotten into trouble on their travels? It had only been a few weeks since they left Earth, but he supposed anything was possible. The noise dropped considerably once the engines were cut; the wind died.

Steve looked around. "Wait, where's Loki?"

Nat looked around too. "He was right behind me." Then she spotted a shimmer against a tree. "He's here, Steve. Just hanging back," she said softly.

"Why?"

"He's afraid."

Steve followed her gaze; he didn't see anything, but Loki was good at magic. He could be anywhere. "He said that?"

"Not in so many words, but I could tell."

Steve pressed a kiss to her temple. Yes, Natasha was very good at reading people. He supposed she had to be, as a spy. He was a little surprised that Loki sought Nat out, but without the Asgardian, he wouldn't have Nat back. And that was unacceptable.

The hydraulics of the gangplank caught his attention. Before it was even fully lowered, Steve spotted Thor marching down. Stormbreaker was nowhere to be seen, but he looked a bit more like the Thor of old. He was still stouter around the middle than Steve was used to, but his hair had been cut and his beard was under control. But the eyes were the real difference. Thor's blue eyes were bright with life, excitement and a trace of anxiety. When he spotted Steve and Nat, his boyish grin lit up his whole face.

"Steve! Natasha!" Thor called.

Nat let go of Steve's hand and stepped into Thor's warm embrace. He hugged her tightly, lifting her slightly off the ground. "It is _good_ to have you back, my friend," he said, still smiling. It didn't quite reach his eyes this time, but Nat wasn't offended. She knew he was looking for Loki. "Didn't I tell you, Steve? Space magic."

Steve grinned. "Yeah, you did." He hugged Thor too. "Looking good, buddy."

Thor chuckled. "We've been up to all sorts of adventures. It's been…good."

"I can see that."

But Thor couldn't hide his curiosity. Loki was here, he could sense it. "And my brother?"

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Loki appeared, seemingly out of thin air. "Right here, brother."

Steve and Nat stood back as the brothers considered each other. Loki definitely looked nervous, though he tried to hide it. Steve wasn't fooled. Thor looked at Loki like he was seeing a ghost; his chin wobbled dangerously. "Loki?" The ache in his voice made Nat's heart hurt. "Is it really you?"

Slowly, Loki nodded. "It is. I have missed you, brother."

Thor grabbed Loki and dragged him into a bonecrushing hug. If Loki wasn't otherworldly, it would have hurt. He hugged his brother back just as tightly, ignoring the tears that stung his eyes. "I am so sorry, brother," Thor whispered. "So sorry."

"It is I who should apologize," Loki began, but Thor cut him off.

"No, brother. You did what was necessary. I am so proud of you."

Loki stepped back and stared at his brother incredulously. "You're not angry?"

"Loki, I've had to live with the knowledge that my final words to you were spoken in anger," Thor said, not bothering to hide his tears. Loki was stunned. Not just that his brother would weep for him, but that losing him had affected him so badly. The captain's friends had tried to warn him about the changes in Thor, but Loki hadn't believed it. Not truly. This was Thor. His brother was arrogant to an insufferable degree. He couldn't imagine Thor just…giving up. Yet, he could not deny the evidence of his eyes.

Loki gripped Thor's shoulder. "The last thing I remember is taking your taking your rightful place as king," he admitted. "I was never prouder to be your brother."

Thor frowned. "But Thanos…"

"That wasn't me, brother. That was a clone made of magic. Your Captain Rogers rescued me before Thanos attacked the ship. You have nothing to regret. I promise you."

Sam and Steve's friend Bucky had tried to explain all this to him, but Thor had only been half paying attention. All he truly understood was that Loki was somehow alive. Impossibly alive and standing in front of him. "I have missed you, Loki."

"And I you, brother." They hugged again, simply happy to be reunited after all these years.

"Is all the blubbering over?" came Rocket's voice from behind the brothers. "Cause some of us got manly reps to protect."

Nat grinned. "Hey Rocket."

The smallest Guardian stepped around Thor's massive form; his head tilted at Natasha. "Hey Red. You're looking good for someone who's supposed to be dead."

Steve tensed, but Natasha just smiled. The attitude was just who Rocket was. She liked the little furball. "It's good to see you too."

Rocket close the space between them and curled his tiny paw around her hand, squeezing hard. She accepted the gesture in the spirit it was intended. Rocket claimed not to care, but Natasha knew better. In some ways, he reminded her of herself.

That said, Rocket was cuddly compared to Nebula. She was the next one down the gangplank, nodding curtly at Nat as she passed. Natasha nodded back. "Any luck yet?"

Nebula knew exactly what Natasha was asking about, though she was perplexed about how Natasha knew to ask. "Not yet. He's not giving up. None of us are."

"You'll find her, Nebula. But if you need any help, just ask, okay?"

Nebula said nothing, but after a beat, she nodded. Steve had told Nat all about how a past version of Nebula's sister, Gamora, had arrived with Thanos. He also mentioned how Gamora had fought for the heroes, often at her sister's side. After the battle, Gamora vanished. No one knew where. It made sense that the Guardians would be looking for her; she was one of their own. But it was a big universe.

Steve nodded hello to Quill, Drax and Mantis as they passed. He didn't know them that well; the Guardians left soon after Tony's funeral. "Hey Groot."

"I am Groot." Groot was taller than the last time Steve had seen him; he assumed that was a greeting. The other being's speech pattern was still a mystery to Steve, though Thor had no trouble understanding him. Groot paused in front of them and held out his hand. A look of deep concentration contorted his face; a soft bloom grew out of his bark. Nat gasped, flushing as Groot plucked it and handed it to her. "I am Groot," he said earnestly.

"Thank you, Groot. It's beautiful."

Groot smiled. "I am Groot!"

"She's already spoken for, Romeo," Rocket groused. "You're wasting your time, buddy."

"I am Groot," Groot replied sullenly as he followed Rocket toward the cabin.

Steve chuckled. "At least he's got good taste," he whispered as their friends walked away. He was content to allow everyone else to pull ahead of them. They had plenty of time to get reacquainted.

Nat rolled her eyes. "Leave him alone, Steve."

"You're a beautiful woman, Natasha." He brushed his lips across her temple. "Though now I'm thinking I need to step up my game."

Nat stood up on her toes, her free hand curling behind his neck to draw his mouth to hers. A pleasant tingle washed through her, his lips warm and soft against hers. "You've got all the game you need, soldier."

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her flush against his body. The sounds of their friends faded away; all that mattered was the way she felt against him. "Missed you," he murmured, fingering the hem of her shirt.

"Don't let Bucky or Sam hear you say that," she whispered. "Their egos might not be able to take it."

Steve grinned and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Don't care," he replied, pressing his forehead to hers. "I'm right where I want to be."

Had anyone ever been satisfied with just her? Natasha couldn't remember. The well of happiness that settled in her chest threatened to burst out of her. "They're going to miss us," she whispered.

"Let them." He slanted his lips over hers, kissing her thoroughly. Nat sighed deeply; her whole body tingling with pleasure. Their relationship was still so new, but it didn't feel like it. It was almost as if they were two magnets that finally got their poles aligned, making everything _right._

Steve frowned when he felt his phone buzz. He didn't want to check it, but he was expecting a message. As this was a day for reunions, there was someone missing. He carefully slipped his phone from his pocket, angling it so Natasha couldn't see. _Southwest corner, five minutes._

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Steve was hiding something. "Something wrong? Trouble?" Nat asked.

Steve slid his phone back into his pocket. "Nope. Would you like to take a walk with me, Agent Romanoff?"

Nat cocked a brow at him; he was up to something! "Um, sure, I guess?"

Steve took her hand into his larger one and led her around the perimeter of the lake. He was slightly nervous; he hoped Nat didn't feel like he was overstepping. But after the Triskelion, he knew how important the person they were going to meet was to her. It had taken him a while to track Nick down; after Tony's funeral, he'd disappeared. It wasn't unusual behavior for Nick Fury, but it was annoying when you actually needed to find the man.

"Steve, where are we going?" The lake was beautiful, but their friends would surely miss them. And she did want to catch up with Thor and Rocket and everyone.

"Just a little further, then we can turn back."

"You suck at secrets," she quipped.

"Good thing I'm dating a spy then. You can teach me all your best moves," he teased right back.

She smiled. "Is that a challenge, Rogers?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Think you can handle it, Romanoff?" Before the Accords, he and Nat sparred all the time, mostly for training purposes. It would probably be more fun now.

"What does the winner get?"

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Anything they want."

She grinned. "It's a date then."

Their banter distracted her, just as he'd hoped. There was a small clearing just ahead. Steve drew her to a stop. "Let's hang out here for a minute."

Now she was really confused. What was going on? Instinct had all her senses on alert. Her eyes darted around, scanning for trouble. "Something's not right here, Steve. What aren't you telling me?"

"It's not his fault," a new voice said gravely. "You know how I feel about crowds."

Nat did a double take as Nick Fury stepped out of the trees. "Nick?" Emotion welled up in her throat; logically, she knew that he'd returned with all the others, but seeing him in the flesh was something else. He was the closest thing she had to a father figure.

Leaves and twigs crunched under Fury's heavy boots. "Yeah, it's me, Romanoff."

"How did you know?" _How did you know I was no longer dead? _she thought but didn't say.

Fury nodded at Steve. "You don't need me to tell you that Steve Rogers is nothing if not persistent."

She laughed. "True." Then she did something she never expected to do. She closed the space between them and hugged Nicholas J. Fury. He stiffened for a moment, then gently hugged her back. When she pulled away, she quickly brushed her tears away. She'd missed him a lot during the last five years. "It's good to see you, Nick."

"You too, Natasha. You too."

Steve backed up a little to give them some space to reconnect. He knew that he and Fury didn't always see eye to eye on things, but he respected him. Fury was very important to Nat; that was enough for Steve. He got out his phone and sent Sam a text. _Fury's here. Thanks, man._

It took Sam a moment to reply. _That's good. How did Nat take it?_

Steve tapped back. _They're still talking, but she's happy. I can tell._

Sam sent back a smiling emoji. _I'll make your excuses, if you need me to. You guys take your time._

_You're the best._ Steve slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned against a tree. Yes, they had plenty of time now. He was under no illusions. There would be trouble eventually. But, for now, they could afford to spend time with friends and family. Even if that meant clandestine meetings in the woods. Steve chuckled to himself. This was his life now; one he didn't regret for a single second.


End file.
